Coming Of Age
by ToryTigress92
Summary: AU of 'Arc of Infinity'. After the Doctor's execution, Nyssa is offered a choice by the Time Lords. Eventual Nyssa/ Castellan. Don't hate it or love it until you've R&R'd!
1. Aftermath

Coming of Age

_I do not own Doctor Who._

* * *

The Castellan was a rigidly thorough man. As unbending as the very spires of the Capitol itself. He believed in duty and responsibility beyond anything else; even personal feeling. The centuries he had lived had only honed this self control in service to his planet, and its people, shaped and refined the arrogance which accompanied it, as was carried by all Time Lords. Even the Doctor was not immune, renegade and hermit that he was. Self-control and repression was the building blocks of any Time Lord.

So when the Doctor was escorted in with his young companion, the slight surge of physical reaction; the release of hormones into his bloodstream, was easily ignored as the Castellan turned with the other Councillors to greet the infamous Time Lord.

* * *

"Councillors, my companion, Nyssa of Traken," the Doctor's youthful baritone punctured the tense silence of the High Council. Nyssa could feel it, could feel the air like a thick sludge, their words cutting through it. There was something wrong, she could sense it. Her intelligent eyes keenly surveyed the other figures in the room, eager to see more Time Lords. The only ones she had met were the Doctor and the Master. So, with scientific interest, she looked the Councillors over.

Councillor Hedin was friendly enough, an innocently father-like figure in fiery orange robes. The only woman in the room was beautiful, but seemed to be carved from stone, like a statue from her home planet, the artificial lights of the room gilding her fair hair, glimmering off a complicated series of pendants hanging from her neck, the long, voluminous gown covering every inch of skin bar that needed to showcase the necklace. A noblewoman, she guessed, and one of great power from the way she bore herself.

"You are welcome to Gallifrey, Nyssa." Lady Thalia smiled and inclined her head gracefully, a slight smile on her noble face. Nyssa inclined her head, grateful for all the training that allowed her to maintain her composure in this room of intimidating people.

"Thank you." Nyssa replied calmly, her eyes travelling on to the only other two men in the room. The one standing directly behind Lady Thalia was a non-entity, unthreatening and almost non-existent, in robes of deep crimson and purple, his winged headdress seeming to swamp him, when compared with the Time Lord standing behind him.

This one, Nyssa assumed with a shiver, was not one to cross.

"Well, Doctor, unpleasant business this. I'm sure you understand why the Lord President was forced to recall you," the first Time Lord spoke up, but Nyssa could not tear her eyes away from his neighbour.

This Time Lord was dressed, as the others, in flowing robes, this time of brown and gold, a gold cap covering his skull, his muscular hands clasped in front of him. His entire body language clearly spoke to her of reined power and strength, of an iron-clad will and determination, as inexorable as stone. But even stone can be eroded, she thought absentmindedly, as her eyes met his.

Cold, fiercely intelligent grey eyes captured hers in detached speculation, and she raised her chin slightly, refusing to be intimidated. She may not be a Time Lord, but she was a noblewoman, and one that would not bow her will to others readily.

* * *

The Castellan coldly watched the Doctor's companion as she studied him appraisingly, quickly moving from Zorac to himself. He turned his interest to her, studying her in equal measure.

He saw a girl on the very verge of womanhood, as graceful and proud as any Time Lady, her back straight and unbending. No doubt her will was the same. Feeling his gaze upon her, he noticed the slight change in her body language, which indicated so clearly that she refused to be intimidated. He covertly studied her with greater interest, feeling that same physical reaction as when she first entered the room, instantly quashed.

Soft brown curls framed a youthful, angular face; pale skin showcasing the aristocratic lines of her bone structure. Deeply intelligent brown eyes framed by dark lashes and finely arched eyebrows returned his gaze candidly. He noted her bearing, the ethereal deportment and the graceful, precise movements that indicated her aristocratic background. A slender figure encased in brown velvet, puffed sleeves hiding her limbs, which he suspected were as slender as the rest of her. She was shorter than her guardian, her head just reaching his shoulder, and the Castellan could see the protectiveness of a father in the way the Doctor had placed an arm around her shoulders; shielding her from them. The Doctor's slightly pointed comment drew him from his ruminations, as he turned his attention to the renegade Time Lord.

"Given the chance, I would have returned willingly," he said softly, stepping between Hedin and Thalia, effectively hiding Nyssa behind himself and his ally on the Council. A sign that he did not trust the Time Lords. Nyssa saw it, as well as the Councillors, as she moved with the Doctor. Their discussion in the safety compound, and in the Tardis before Maxil had escorted them here, came back to her. Would the Time Lords truly take the Doctor's life to stop the creature?

"You've never proved as cooperative in the past," the Castellan's single comment rang throughout the chamber, the dominant factor.

"You remember that you were asked to return Romana and you failed to do so," Thalia's pointed rebuke emphasised her position as at least the dominant female in the room, to Nyssa's scientific eye.

"Romana chose to stay in E-Space." The Doctor's retort, slightly weary as if he'd explained it a thousand times already, had Nyssa mentally smiling.

"That's all past history," Hedin swiftly cut off all argument, with a brusque tone. He may not have been as overtly dominant as the Castellan in his body language and tone, or as subtly powerful as Lady Thalia, but power and wisdom rang in his wizened tones. It was clear that even the Doctor respected his authority, when he turned to him with a nod of the head, acceding to his wishes.

"Yes. Well now that I'm here, Thalia, have you given any thought to what's happened?" the Doctor turned back to Thalia, his hands clasped behind his back. Nyssa remained silent, watching and learning.

"There hasn't been much time, Doctor," was the vague answer.

"Well, has anyone checked to see if my biodata extracts have been removed from the Matrix, Castellan?" the Doctor turned to the brown robed Time Lord questioningly, another kind of authority and dominance in his mien and demeanour.

"What are you suggesting, Doctor?" the Castellan asked, a slight accusatory sting to his voice.

"I would've thought that was obvious," the Doctor's tone turned derisive, "None of this could've happened unless the creature had that information."

"I should've thought the most important thing….." the Castellan's argument was cut off by Zorac's frantic whisper.

"Councillors, the Lord President."

Nyssa turned with the Doctor, to see the Lord President of the Time Lords sweep into the chamber, clad in silver and gold, kindly yet sharp old eyes fixing the Doctor with an almost fatherly look.

"You, too, have regenerated," he remarked, his hands clasped in front of him. Nyssa regarded him interestedly, tearing her eyes away from the animosity between the Doctor and the Castellan.

"Indeed, President Borusa." The Doctor replied, his head inclined respectfully. It was the first time Nyssa had seen the Doctor show deference to anyone. The President turned to her, with a friendly smile.

"And Nyssa of Traken, isn't it?"

She nodded, smiling slightly, trying to ignore the undercurrents of tension she could feel pervading the room.

"Sorry to have kept you waiting," he turned to the High Council, standing like unwanted spectators, "Please be seated, Councillors."

Nyssa felt herself speared by another glance from the Castellan, and realised he could not be classified as an unwanted spectator. He stood at the left-hand of one of the most powerful beings in the Universe, his own power and dominance radiating from every pore. She didn't look away, trapped in his gaze, until he broke the contact. She suppressed an odd shiver, feeling as though he had pierced into the very centre of her soul.

"This session of the High Council of Time Lords in now in progress."

The Doctor sent her an inscrutable look, one she returned. She had did not have a good feeling about this.

* * *

Hours later it seemed, Nyssa stood beside the Doctor, hands clasped behind her back, feeling a mounting sense of anger, one she kept rigidly controlled. Even when the Doctor spoke up, revealing the existence of a conspiracy on Gallifrey, the Council ignored it, callously denying its possibility. Or rather the Castellan did. As the Doctor tried to fight for his life, and for the time to investigate the situation, Nyssa felt only a mounting sense of dread. A dread that was confirmed when the Lord President refused the Doctor's request.

"Commander!"

Nyssa spun, as the tall, powerfully built Gallifreyan re-entered the room, clad in the red and white of the Guards.

The President spoke again, this time in a tone of remorse and pity.

"You know that capital punishment has long been abolished here on Gallifrey, but there is precedent for a situation like this. Have you nothing further to say, Doctor?"

"I have a great deal to say!" the Doctor began, his tone low and stormy. It was a tone she had heard him use a thousand times when confronting an enemy. She felt her own anger and disbelief burst its bonds, as she stepped beside her friend, tilting her chin proudly.

"You can't do this! You must destroy the creature." Nyssa exploded. Here in the citadel of the oldest civilisation in the Universe, she never thought to see such barbarity.

"Child, do you think we have not considered this? The creature is shielded. We have no way of tracing it!" the President stood, agitated.

"So you're prepared to kill the Doctor?" Nyssa argued back. Could they not see that they would only be lowering themselves to the same level as the evil that had tried to take the Doctor?

"Commander!" the President ignored her impassioned outburst. "Remove the Doctor to the security compound. As soon as the warrant is issued, you will convey him to a place of termination."

Two guards came and began to drag the Doctor away.

"I'm sorry, Doctor," the President's tone was remorseful now. Tears sprung to Nyssa's eyes.

"No! You can't!" she cried, stepping forward.

"Executing me will not alter the fact there's a traitor at work on Gallifrey!" the Doctor's last words before he was dragged away reverberated in her head, as the doors closed, and Nyssa turned to fight for her friend's life.

The Castellan watched as the Trakenite took a deep breath, visibly steeling herself to confront them. When she spoke, it was in a voice filled with dignity and respect.

"Time Lords, I beg of you, think what you're doing."

Nyssa looked desperately for some sign of sympathy or compassion in the stone faces around her. Thalia's face was pitying, Hedin's weary and sympathetic, Zorac's troubled, whilst the Castellan appeared impassive.

"The creature knew the Tardis' location, time-zone coordinates, bioscan. That information could only have come from here, from Gallifrey."

"Only the High Council of Time Lords can extract such data from the Matrix," the Castellan's voice cut across her plea, as Nyssa turned to him, tears in her eyes. The Castellan felt something he never thought he would ever feel: pity. But he coldly continued to slay her accusation. "You, too, accuse us of treason."

"Can you deny the possibility?" Nyssa fired back, refusing to back down. The Castellan's gaze did not waver from hers, eliciting that odd shiver again. She ignored it, turned to the other Time Lords, turning her back on the Castellan. He was quietly impressed by her tenacity and her passion, in the cause of saving a friend's life, but he would not be swayed, as he knew the President would not be. The decision was all but made, officially. "At least, give the Doctor time."

"There is no time." Borusa stopped her, shaking his head impatiently. "Nor can proof of what you say change things. We must prevent the full bonding."

"But the Doctor is innocent!" Nyssa advanced on the Lord President, her youthful face radiant with passion and fire, her eyes twinkling with determination and desperation. The Castellan felt that same odd physical reaction, but he shook himself. He had to remain focussed.

Thalia joined the debate now. "What would you have us do? Spare the Doctor and condemn untold billions to destruction? That is the choice we face here."

Nyssa had to admit it was not an easy one, and she knew what the Doctor would say. But, as her friend Tegan had once said, she didn't have to like it. It was still wrong. Desperate, she turned to the wall, fighting for some new route, some way to save the Doctor. Borusa interrupted her thoughts, a sad, gentle smile on his face.

"We have listened to what you say but the decision must stand."

"Lord President, in view of what she says, couldn't we at least delay carrying out the judgement?" Hedin asked from his seat. Thalia cut him off curtly.

"We can't risk it, Hedin."

"We're sorry, child, but truly there's no other choice." Zorac backed his fellow Councillor up, sending Nyssa a sympathetic glance. Nyssa, feeling her temper take flight, a vise constricting around her lungs, had only enough breath to spit vehemently, "So much for your justice!"

She turned on her heel and marched from the room. Five pairs of eyes watched her go, four with sympathy and cool pity, one with speculative interest in his eyes.

* * *

Outside, Nyssa breathed deeply. Now what was she to do? She had to save the Doctor.

Only minutes later it seemed to Nyssa, that she stood in the hall of termination, watching as her friend the Doctor was executed. Her plan had failed. She was forced to watch as he faded from sight, his image overlaid by a negative of some strange creature, the replica of the one that had tried to bond with him in the Tardis, her heart heaving with pain.

* * *

Her best friend, her father, her teacher. She had lost so much, and now this seemed the final straw.

She fought not to give into grief, her shoulders shaking, tears escaping, trickling down her face, leaving glistening paths behind them.

"I hope you know what you've done!" was all she could bring herself to say, disgust and grief fighting for dominance in her voice. It took all her years of training to suppress the grief long enough to turn and flee from the room, before she broke down before the High Council. Despite everything, despite the evidence of the Doctor's betrayal, they still executed him. And what was worse, the Doctor had let them. He, himself, had willingly stepped into the machine that had destroyed him. As she fled from the room, it was not only the Lord President's eyes that followed her with pity.

* * *

The Castellan and Maxil walked shoulder to shoulder from the hall of termination. The termination was not what he had expected, not at all. The Castellan's instincts were telling him something was wrong. The girl, Nyssa, was also a problem. The President had promised the Doctor her life, but she needed to be controlled. She was a loose cannon, one that could easily go off at any moment. Eventually he turned to his Commander.

"What was your opinion, Maxil?"

"For termination? Not quite what I expected," the Commander replied succinctly, his cold eyes trained on his superior's face.

"Nor me. I want a full analysis of the event. Be discreet, but do it right away. What do you think of the girl, Nyssa of Traken?" the Castellan asked, his brow furrowed. Maxil shrugged.

"A potential danger; one that will have to be controlled, one way or the other," he replied coolly, before he stood to attention and marched away smartly. Nodding to himself, the Castellan turned towards the High Council Rooms.

* * *

Nyssa ran, unimpeded, through the Citadel, tears blurring her vision. She couldn't go back to the Tardis, where Damon awaited her, nor did she have anywhere else to go. She ignored the scandalised glares of the Time Lords lounging in the residential areas, feeling a bubble of hatred towards them. Here they sat, so complacent and carefree, whilst murder was committed by their so-called leaders. She wanted nothing more than to escape. But she had nowhere to escape to. Her home was gone, the Doctor was gone; she had….nothing.

Finally she reached a deserted corridor, one she didn't recognise, and slowed her pace. The marble glinted darkly, reflecting her image in amorphous, dream-like shapes as she walked to a single window, that looked out over the Citadel. She perched on the sill, and leaned her head against the cool glass.

Below, the Citadel of the Time Lords unravelled like a lush gem before her, spires of crystal and snow white glinting in the light of three suns, setting the towers afire with their brilliance. Not far the from the energy field that held the city enclosed, she could see the stark wall of the mountains, stretching on endlessly, its ridges and peaks capped with diamond snow, glittering like a star-encrusted necklaces amongst the dark stone. Nyssa felt herself entranced by the sight, forgetting her grief for a moment, the tears still running unchecked down her face. Her heart felt shrivelled to ashes; she had nothing left. She heard the tramp of the Guards' boots on the marble behind her, she didn't care.

How long she had sat there, she didn't know. It could have been millennia to her. She was aware of a someone, a man, stepping forward, a familiar sensation rippling down her spine.

"Girl, you will come with me," the Castellan's voice rang out, harsh in the deserted hallway, as Nyssa slowly turned to meet the Castellan's cool gaze. She couldn't summon up the will to be defiant, nor to rile at his superior tone. The only thing she could do was something her old friend, Tegan, used to do.

"The name is Nyssa," she informed him quietly, refusing to look at him, as she stepped proudly out, as a queen, her regal bearing unaffected by the events of the day.

"Then come…Nyssa," he replied, gesturing for her to precede him, flanked by two guards in red and white. "The Lord President wishes to discuss your future."

Nyssa felt the Castellan fall into step beside her, a single hand on her back, guiding her through the hallways of the Citadel. She was too tired to care.

They finally stopped before a familiar set of doors, and Nyssa felt an inexplicable surge of dread, as they swung open. For the first time, she met the Castellan's eyes, and took a deep breath before she stepped over the threshold. His hand still on her back, firmly escorting her.


	2. The Choice

Coming of Age

* * *

As Nyssa glided into the High Council chambers, the Castellan left her side, to return to his seat. Thalia, Hedin and Zorac all inclined their heads, sympathetically. She regally returned their greeting, hiding her confused emotions behind a calm façade. Darting a glance at the Castellan, she noticed a slight curl to his lip. He clearly wasn't fooled.

"Nyssa of Traken, welcome back," the Lord President stood to greet her, taking her hand. Nyssa relinquished it passively. Was she to be punished for her attempted insurrection?

"Why did you summon me, Lord President?" she asked, wanting to get it over with, too tired to think anymore.

"To discuss your future, young Nyssa. The Doctor's last request was that we allow you to go free, not to punish you for your loyalty. Indeed, you are to be commended for it. Therefore, you are now under our guardianship, and so we must decide what to do with you," the President answered her, the friendliness turning to stern purpose, as he regarded her. Nyssa felt caution rise; something was not right.

"Do with me, Lord President?" she asked, her forehead wrinkling.

"Yes, Nyssa. You must see what a potential problem you are. Let us speak plainly; you, with your loyalty to the Doctor, are a threat, one which must be controlled,"

"Controlled? Nyssa asked, incredulous. She was a mere humanoid, how could she be a threat to the Time Lords? What did he mean by controlled?

"Oh we do not mean to kill you, Nyssa. No, we have a far more pleasant alternative to offer; we propose to bind you to a Time Lord, and allow you to reside here on Gallifrey, under our protection, as the Doctor would've wanted," the President explained, watching her face earnestly. Outwardly Nyssa remained serene, but inwardly she was reeling. Bound to a Time Lord?

"Bound to a Time Lord?" she asked, fighting to gain time. She wondered what the alternative would be if she refused.

"You humanoids would call it marriage, I suppose. A slightly archaic means, but still…." The President shrugged airily. Nyssa felt her breath catch, her distress beginning to show.

"And the alternative?" she asked, her chin tilting haughtily.

"A complete mind-wipe and relocation on a primitive planet." Lady Thalia interjected, her voice blunt. Nyssa turned to her, fighting to control her anger at being threatened.

"Mind-wipe?" she asked, her jaw firming. The Castellan watched the minutest change in her body language. The girl was good, almost worthy of a Gallifreyan, giving nothing away. But he could see the strain was making it more and more difficult to fight her emotions.

"All your memories would be taken from your mind. We would have to taken even your memories of Traken, since we cannot return you there, alas. It is not a pleasant alternative," the President explained. Nyssa turned back to him, the curls loose down her back flying as her head whipped around.

"So that is the choice you offer me? A life spent caged or give up my memories?" Nyssa asked slowly, in complete disbelief.

"Hardly caged, young Nyssa. Here on Gallifrey, you would be free to pursue a life of scientific study and experimentation, in comfort and safety. It is hardly an unfair bargain," the President replied, shaking his head, his robes rustling as he moved.

"In return I am to be bound to a Time Lord. Who?" she asked, her eyes roaming the Time Lords assembled. She still fought to find a way out.

"The Castellan has volunteered to take on the charge," the President indicated the harsh Time Lord, whose eyes were fixed on her. Nyssa fought back another shiver, meeting his eyes defiantly.

"I see. Time Lords, may I have some time to think over your…offer?" Nyssa asked, looking back to the Lord President. He looked displeased, seemingly, that she hadn't jumped at the deal, but he nodded his permission nonetheless.

"Withdraw. We will expect your decision in one hour, Nyssa," he said wearily, standing from his chair and exiting the chamber. Nyssa quickly turned on her heel and walked from the room. She needed to think.

* * *

The Castellan watched his prospective 'bride' leave the room, suppressing an amused chuckle. She was a strong one, there was no doubt of that.

* * *

Nyssa wandered back to the hallway the Castellan had found her in, possessed by a sense of panic. What was she going to do? Her rational mind looked set to dissolve into a sodden mess. The unexpected 'deal' the Council had offered her was giving her a headache, the day turned into a nightmare. That morning she had awoken, looking forward to a day of repairs and maintenance on the Tardis systems, and so quickly it had spiralled out of control, her inner peace shattered forever.

Her best friend was dead, executed by his own kind, she was stranded on an alien planet, and now she faced a horrible choice. Virtual imprisonment, shackled to the Castellan, or lose all her memories, effectively executing her too. Her physical body would live on, but she would cease to be Nyssa of Traken. Maybe it would be a relief to let the tragedy of her life go. But to simply give up was not in Nyssa's way, the way her father had taught her, and she knew to choose an easy way out would only disappoint him. She sighed and sat on the sill, leaning against the glass. She only had half an hour before the Council would expect her decision. Her mind felt torn in two, sunk in despair.

"Nyssa!" she heard Damon's familiar voice, and she turned with a wan smile to meet him. He came, concern evident on his youthful face, and he took her hands in his. "Nyssa, what is it? I have heard of the Doctor's death, but you look…." He trailed off helplessly. Nyssa's lips quirked in a sad smile. She probably looked a mess. She could barely bring herself to speak.

"The Council have issued me with an ultimatum; either my mind can be wiped, my memories removed and be relocated on another planet, or remain here and be bonded to the Castellan," she explained, the despair of her situation crowding in on her. She felt so weak and tired, as she hadn't felt since Deva Loka. The name brought back memories of her friends, Tegan and Adric. What would they say, if they saw her situation? Tegan would heatedly refuse to be dictated to by the Time Lords. She would try to escape in the Tardis, probably unsuccessfully. The thought had Nyssa smirking wryly. She honestly didn't know how Adric would react. He would have been honoured to remain here on Gallifrey, with the opportunity to study to his heart's content, so would she, to some extent, were it not for the shadow of the Doctor's death. How could she live in harmony and close proximity to the people responsible for his death? Damon's reaction shook her from her thoughts. "Bonded?"

Nyssa refocused on her friend's face. "Yes, that's what they said."

"To the Castellan?" another nod. "I cannot believe that!"

"Why not? They seek to control me. They believe me a threat," Nyssa replied.

"But to be bonded to the Castellan! Although I suppose he is the most powerful Time Lord, bar the Lord President, and certainly one of the most severe and harsher of the breed. If he seeks to control you, I do not see how you may remain free," Damon mused thoughtfully.

"And I can see no way to escape," Nyssa added, her face downcast. She was trapped and she could see no way out.

"True; you cannot fly the Tardis solo, and I do not possess the Rassilon Imprimateur, so even if I accompanied you we would disintegrate in seconds into the Time stream." Damon agreed with her. Nyssa turned to him questioningly, her curiosity piqued despite the situation.

"The Rassilon Imprimateur?" she asked by way of question.

"A genetic marker within the DNA of a Time Lord which allows them to travel in the Vortex without suffering molecular disintegration. The protection is also extended to their travelling companions whilst they are with them,"

"I see. So the choice is no choice at all," Nyssa sighed. Damon stretched out a hand and squeezed her shoulder sympathetically. In the reflection of the window, she saw him glance away and back again, a troubled expression on his face.

"I must go, Nyssa. I am sorry," he whispered, with a slight smile, giving her one last salutary squeeze of the shoulder, before he disappeared. A part of Nyssa wished he wouldn't leave but then she saw the reason for it, when his reflection was replaced by that of Lady Thalia behind her. Straightening her back, Nyssa turned to face the Time Lady.

"Lady Thalia, is it time?" she asked, her voice quiet and dignified. The other woman shook her head, a small smile on her graceful face.

"Not quite yet, my dear. I merely came to ascertain your whereabouts, and to…offer you my advice and my sympathies," Thalia watched the broken young girl before her, trapped at a crossroads, with no one desirable fate to choose. She felt true pity for the young Trakenite.

"Advice?" Nyssa asked, turning away from the window, drawing herself up. She felt too weak in body and mind to think.

"Yes. I do not understand the Castellan's motives for volunteering himself, but I do not think they are sinister. Nyssa," at this the Time Lady stepped forward, and took her hand gently. Nyssa jumped slightly at the unexpected contact, her hand so much warmer than Thalia's. She looked into the older woman's eyes, and saw a wealth of compassion in her ancient eyes. "The Castellan is a good man, Nyssa. Some say he is harsh and severe but no more than his office requires. He would not harm you, and I would say he volunteered to become your husband rather than take your memories. I understand the pain you must feel, Nyssa, and the hatred you must feel towards us. But maybe here, under the Castellan's care, you may find healing. There's an old Earth saying; where there's life there's hope," Thalia finished. Nyssa nodded, resigned; it seemed her decision was made for her.

A bell tolled in the distance, a deep, sonorous chime that she remembered from the Doctor's execution.

"It is time. Come, Nyssa," Thalia gestured for the Trakenite to precede her. Nyssa took a deep breath and left the hallway.

* * *

In the Council chambers, the Council awaited Nyssa's return. As the doors swung open, she entered alongside Chancellor Thalia, grateful for her advice. The Lord President stood, as did Hedin and the others, as Nyssa glided to the centre of the room.

"Well, Nyssa of Traken? What is your decision?" he asked, smoothing the front of his robes. Nyssa took a deep breath and held it, feeling the eyes of one particular Time Lord on her; knowing that once the decision was made, she couldn't go back.

"Lord President, Councillors. I have thought on your offer, and its consequences, and I have made my decision," Nyssa paused to collect her thoughts, fighting for the strength to carry it through. "I accept your offer, Lord President, to remain on Gallifrey and bind myself to the Castellan."

"Excellent, Nyssa, excellent. With your permission, the bonding will take place immediately. Castellan, are you prepared?" the Lord President turned to the silent Time Lord. Nyssa felt light-headed; events were moving too quickly.

"I am, Lord President," was the terse reply and Nyssa sensed him leave his seat, and take up a position just behind her left shoulder. She did not look at him.

"Then the ceremony can take place." The Lord President smiled down on Nyssa, who returned it wanly. At that moment she felt too tired to resist where the winds of Fate seemed to be taking her.


	3. The Bonding

Coming of Age

* * *

The Lord President led the way into a small room off the main chamber, black marble glinting in the dim light. To Nyssa, it looked like a black hole, ready to swallow her up forever. Soon she would cease to be Nyssa of Traken, and become Lady Nyssa of Gallifrey. The thought made Nyssa weak with nausea.

In the small, domed chamber, a flame burnt within a white bowl atop a pedestal, yet there was no sign of the fire's destructive influence on the ceramic. The Lord President went to stand behind it, facing Nyssa. Thalia stood behind her, a supportive hand on her arm, as the Castellan took his place beside her. Nyssa felt misgivings as the coolness of his body seemed to reach for her, but it was too late to turn back. The Doctor was dead and she had to find her own way.

"Nyssa of Traken, you are resolved on this?" the Lord President asked solemnly. Nyssa fought to keep her voice steady, hypnotised by the flickering flame before her.

"I am, Lord President,"

"Then come." Thalia led Nyssa forward, to stand before the flame, facing the Castellan.

"Raise your arm, Nyssa," Thalia whispered, as the Castellan extended his. Unsure what to do, Nyssa raised her own, suppressing a gasp when the Castellan gripped her hand with surprising strength. His hand was like an iceberg in hers. Thalia stepped forward and wound a red cord around their wrists, joining them together, before she stepped back to her place behind Nyssa. She could sense Hedin and Zorac watching from the shadows. Taking a deep breath, Nyssa looked up, to meet the eyes of the man who would become her husband. Her jailer.

They stared into her own; resolute, pitiless. She felt herself become entrapped; unable to breathe, her mind frozen. She was barely aware of the Lord President speaking, reciting some ancient speech; she was so focussed on the Castellan. This was the first time she'd had the opportunity to look him over properly.

He was handsome, in a very different way to the Doctor, his face hard and severe, like a statue hewn from rock. Those diamond grey eyes held hers so effortlessly, set in patriarchal planes of granite. She couldn't tell what colour his hair was, but she guessed it to be a light brown. His brow quirked slightly as he saw her regard.

_I take it you like what you see?_

Nyssa gasped and would have recoiled, were it not for the hand that had become a shackle around her wrist, and Thalia's hands on her upper arms, supporting her. She felt Thalia's whisper in her ear.

"During the bonding, your mind will be linked temporarily to the Castellan's. It can be disconcerting, but you will grow used to it,"

Disconcerting was not the word. Amusement flickered in the Castellan's eyes, as Nyssa looked back at him, tilting her chin defiantly.

_Do not fear, girl._

_My name is Nyssa!_ Nyssa felt a surge of annoyance. She would not be treated as a child.

_Indeed. But whatever your preferred form of address, Nyssa, I can feel your fear nonetheless._

Nyssa could feel his puzzlement at her fear, as easily as she felt her own fear. Their minds were intimately linked.

_You killed the Doctor. You offered me this choice as the lesser of two evils. How could I not be afraid?_

_You have nothing to fear, Nyssa. I will not harm you._

Nyssa looked into his eyes and saw the truth there. Whatever the future held, she would not suffer at his hands. His hand shifted slightly under hers, and some of the resentment she held at the Doctor's execution lifted, as his thumb gently brushed over the curve of her hand. Nyssa hid her instinctive shiver, refusing to lower her eyes from his, as their minds opened to each other.

Suddenly Nyssa was flooded with sensation. Her knees weakened; as memory upon memory crashed into her mind.

* * *

Duty, order, control, long dry years of command. Righteous anger at the renegades and the rebels. Impatience, arrogance, satisfaction. The endless intricacies of Time. A glow erupted in her abdomen, a reaction to his at their first meeting. Centuries flew before her eyes, her head aching until it felt as though it would burst. Nyssa felt her grip on reality falter, and then fade entirely, her mind spiralling into a deep, dark tunnel. She fought to stay alert, anchored to consciousness by the icy, rock-hard fingers clasping her own. She was achingly aware of everything, of the smells of the room, her own perfume and Thalia's, the rustle of heavy robes, the sounds of the flame crackling and Borusa's voice ceremoniously bringing the ceremony to an end, the red cord binding her to the Castellan. It was symbol of the mental link she would always have with him, bound to him for eternity.

* * *

_Nyssa, stay with me. It will be over soon._

His voice in her head, holding her up mentally. She could feel the steel in the hand holding hers, the hands clamped around her upper arms, as she felt her body lose coherence. Much more of this and she would collapse.

"…..May Rassilon bless you both."

Nyssa was not aware of Borusa finishing his speech, only of emptiness as the Castellan's mind left hers. Thalia unwound the cord, as Hedin and Zorac stepped from the shadows, and Borusa left his place to join them.

"Nyssa that was well done! Not many humanoids can take the mental bonding for long," Borusa congratulated her. Nyssa only felt weakness, as she fought to remain conscious.

"Lady Nyssa, please accept the congratulations of the entire High Council," Zorac's pompous voice pierced through Nyssa's exhaustion. She was Lady Nyssa now. She drew herself up, hiding the effort, and nodded regally. A hand twined with her own, and she looked down to see the brown velvet and gold trimming of the Castellan's robe sleeve. Drawing strength from the contact, she took a deep, shuddering breath.

"I thank you, Cardinal Zorac," she replied, forcing a small smile. All her strength was wilting fast. She swayed slightly, and the hand holding hers transferred to her back. She couldn't fight anymore.

Her knees buckled, as she lost consciousness, her mind too exhausted to struggle anymore. The events of the day had sapped her strength. The Castellan bent and caught her, holding her against his body as he swung her into his arms, feeling again that same biological reaction as before. This time it was harder to ignore, at the feel of her soft weight in his arms.

"Councillors, I think my wife needs to retire. No doubt the events of this day have weakened her," he said brusquely, facing Thalia and the other Councillors as they clustered close in alarm.

"Indeed, Castellan. Take her to rest; the poor child has been through enough today," Borusa dismissed him genially.

* * *

From what the Castellan had seen of Nyssa's mind, it was maybe a good thing she was unconscious for that comment. He had felt the strength of her will, that of a noblewoman, as well as the maturity behind her youthful façade. She may still be a child in the eyes of her extinct people, but she would already be considered an adult in many other cultures.

As he carried his wife out of the room, he reflected wryly that he was bound to the one woman who, most likely, would be resistant to his controlling nature.

* * *

Nyssa stirred, cushioned on soft, downy sheets, drawn up over her body, clad in a nightgown of some floaty material that covered most of her body. She had no idea who had changed her clothes, or why, until she managed to lever her lids up, to find herself staring at an orangey-gold ceiling, softly lit from within. She tried to rise, but it felt like her limbs were weighed down by bricks. She was so tired. Her memory was a blank.

She wasn't on the Tardis, so where was she? For a moment a memory of cold fingers entwined with her own intruded, and she gasped. Recollections restored, she tried again to sit up, but her limbs were still too weak. She remembered everything, the execution; the meeting with the Council, her talk with Thalia and her bonding to the Castellan. Speaking of which, where was her new husband?

Again her efforts to rise ended in vain. She slumped back with an impatient huff. She supposed this was how cripples felt, every day of their lives, except for the bone-deep exhaustion that lingered from the bonding. She could feel her lids fluttering shut again, feel slumber begin to claim her again. A cold hand touched her forehead, as she opened her eyes again, to have them entrapped by the Castellan's. He frowned down at her, and she noticed his gold cap was missing, along with the winged headdress, letting her see the strong line of his shoulders, and the dark blonde hair that covered his head.

"Rest, Nyssa. You are still weakened from the ordeal of the past few days," he commanded her, in a tone that told her he expected to be obeyed. And at that moment, she had no intention of fighting, but she wasn't going to give in easily. Better he discover the bargain he had made now than later.

"A few days? How long have I been asleep?" she asked, her voice a quiet rasp. A flicker of consternation showed in his eyes.

"Two days. Such mental exhaustion is not unheard of after the bonding," he said, in an impatient sigh. "Now rest, Nyssa. We will talk later,"

Despite the sight of her lips setting defiantly, he could see her exhaustion was still too strong to ignore. She slipped back into slumber, surrendering her consciousness to sweet oblivion. Watching the innocent slumber that overtook his new wife, the Castellan let a slight smile turn his lips. Such a phenomenon did not occur every day.


	4. Defiance

Coming of Age

* * *

Nyssa awoke that morning a very different girl from the one who had awoken, exhausted and lost, a few weeks before. She let her long brown hair loose from the band that held it, and stepped into the dressing room area of her apartments, linked to the Castellan's. Whereas his quarters were restricted by personal choice to a bedroom, small living area and an office, Nyssa's quarters boasted a bedroom, sitting area, her own small laboratory and a door into a garden, set high above the Capitol below, protected by a force screen. The entire suite of rooms was done in a tasteful colour scheme of cool creams and dark browns, with flashes of red. It was exactly to her taste, and she had been surprised by the generosity of the Time Lords. But at all times she was conscious that she was living in a gilded cage. She was followed everywhere she went outside by two guards, an obvious prisoner, under orders of her arrogant husband, the Castellan. The only privacy she had was in her quarters or in her garden. There was no way she could even visit the Tardis, still under lock and key in the security compound, much good that it would do her.

She had everything a young girl could want; stability, security, wealth. Everything except her freedom.

The computer driven wardrobe picked out her favourite dress, a dark brown velvet with gold accents, hugging her figure, draping her limbs in warm splendour on the cold planet. The neckline was high, only the very top of her neck bare to the air. With a flick of her mind, she cut out a small section, to reveal the skin of her collarbone. Hardly scandalous, but it still gave Nyssa some small satisfaction to rebel against Gallifreyan codes of dress. It felt strange enough to be wearing skirts again, after so long in trousers, and they caught around her legs as she walked.

The beauty of Gallifreyan technology allowed Nyssa to decide on her own clothes, via a mental link to the computer, before she wore them. It had taken a while to manipulate the computer to do her bidding, but she had it down to an art form. The gown materialised and she slipped it over her head, relishing the warmth as it slid down her form like water, moulding to her shape. She looked herself over in the mirror, and readjusted the sleeves, before she slipped into her old brown boots, hidden by the long hem of the gown. She swept her hair up off her face into a knot, pinning it with some combs. Apart from gold drops in her ears, a present from her father many years before, she wore no other decoration. For a moment, she heaved a weary breath.

"I guess this is as good as it's going to get," she sighed, before turning and leaving her wardrobe. A walk in her garden, completing some work in her laboratory and then maybe a walk to the library. That would waste a few hours in the stolid routine of the Citadel. She stood in the middle of her sitting room, and could just about hear her husband moving about his office. They had not had much interaction in their few weeks of 'marriage'. The only visitors she'd had was Lady Thalia and Councillor Hedin. She hadn't seen Damon since the morning she had first awoken as the Castellan's wife, when she had passed him in the corridor, unable to talk to him or even acknowledge him under her husband's eagle eye. She knew he was suspicious about the Doctor's execution; something about it had aroused doubt, and she knew he thought she might've had a hand in it. What she could have done, she had no idea.

All this passed through her head as she walked through the door, and into her own private garden. It consisted of a grassed area, as scarlet as a ruby, dotted with a pale ivory flowers as delicate as china, at that moment covered in diamante snow. As she stepped out, a path appeared beneath her feet, the train of her gown trailing behind her like a brown waterfall. The early morning sunlight glinted off her brown hair, striking bronze tints in the curls, a few escaping to grace the slight inch of skin showing above the neck of her gown. Standing for a moment in the middle of the garden, she let the warmth of the suns heat her skin, relishing the warmth. She laughed suddenly. As Thalia had once said to her; where there was life there was hope. She held out her arms, and closed her eyes.

* * *

In his office, the Castellan opened his eyes, closing the mental link between his wife and he, his mind full of her image in the garden. A useful tool to keep an eye on her whereabouts, not that she could escape the guards that would stay on her tail. Sometimes he felt guilty about watching her in such a way, but they interacted so little, it was the only way he could see her in safety. The physical reaction to her had only grown, and with it the difficulty of controlling it, so he had limited their interaction as much as he were able. But in moments like this, he couldn't resist filling his mind with her, in those rare moments before he began his work for the day, usually only after a few hours sleep. As a Time Lord, he did not need much, but when his mind was weary, the image of his beautiful wife was balm to his soul. He frowned slightly, as he turned back to his work, remembering the expression of wistfulness that had risen to Nyssa's features before it had been dispelled by her musical laughter. She was aggravated by his guards, that he knew and had sensed for weeks, building. She was close to explosion point. Well, he would just have to deal with that issue when it arose.

* * *

Nyssa left the garden, and entered her laboratory. It was a clinically bare space, consisting of a few steel workbenches, and her equipment. Settling herself on a stool, she bent over her latest experiment. She was studying the effect of humanoid enzymes on the cellular structure of Gallifreyan plants. So far it had been slow, boring work. Beside her was an experiment on artificial intelligence that she was working on, from a blueprint she had found in the library. The technology was hundreds of time more complex than anything she had encountered, but she was enjoying the challenge. After a few hours working on her projects, she stretched the sore muscles in her back, and left her quarters. Sure enough, her two lapdogs appeared behind her, tailing her. Determined not to let it get to her, Nyssa walked quickly through the Citadel to the Library. A repository of knowledge, both in the form of holobooks and paper-form books, it was millions of years old. No-one had read everything within its hallowed halls. Nyssa bypassed the holobooks quickly, reaching the older areas of the library. She breathed in the smell of ancient must and worn pages reminiscently, remembering the libraries of Traken, where she had spent much of her childhood, devouring knowledge and information like food. Randomly choosing an aisle, she stepped into it, suddenly aware of footsteps behind her. Her husband's guards. She rolled her eyes derisively, feeling her temper snap.

"Don't you have anything better to do? I'm not about to disappear into thin air," she demanded of one of them archly, drawing herself up proudly. They did not answer. They were like rock, immovable. Sighing, giving them up, she turned back to the rows of books, her vision suddenly blurred by tears. What did they expect her to do? Make a mad dash for the Tardis, and dematerialise to plot some ghastly fate for Gallifrey, in vengeance of the Doctor? She inwardly snorted at the idea. Sighing again, she randomly ran her hand over the leather-bound books, taking comfort in their texture.

"My Lady Nyssa?" a familiar voice had Nyssa turning, to face the Lord President. Borusa favoured her with a fatherly smile.

"Lord President," Nyssa inclined her head gracefully, a social smile on her lips. Really he was as harmless as old Hedin, no threat to her serenity. Her arrogant, domineering husband was another matter.

"And how does the day find you, my dear? You are like a rose about to bloom, radiant," he complimented her cordially. Nyssa blushed modestly.

"I am well, Lord President. Just taking a stroll through the library," she replied, her eyes straying absentmindedly to her two guards, standing unobtrusively in the shadows. Borusa noticed the direction of her eyes, and chuckled understandingly.

"I understand your frustration, my dear."

"But then why am I still so confined? I am no threat to you," Nyssa asked, keeping a respectful air to her tone and mannerisms. It would not do to upset the Lord President, who had been kind to her, despite manoeuvring her into marrying the Castellan.

"It is…a security measure, my dear. A necessary evil, I am afraid, until such time as the Castellan agrees to remove them," the Lord President replied, his tone becoming sternly patriarchal. Nyssa pretended to accept it with a graceful nod and a sad smile.

"I would've thought you too busy working, Lord President, to be strolling idly through the library," Nyssa changed the subject. She was not going to give up.

"Yes, well, I find it prudent to take a rest every now and then. The mind can become stale with too much work, my dear. Speaking of which, how goes your little project? Thalia was telling me what excellent progress you had made," Borusa asked in return, walking beside her, back through the Library. Everyone around them bowed and murmured, both to the Lady and to the Lord President. Distracted, thinking up a strategy to ensure the removal of her guards, Nyssa hadn't noticed that they had returned to her quarters. With a sad smile, she turned to the Lord President.

"I bid you good day, Lord President," she murmured.

"And to you, my dear Lady Nyssa," he inclined his head, before he left her. As she slipped inside her rooms, the guards disappeared, and she sat heavily on one of the cream sofas within her sitting room, rubbing her eyes wearily. The situation was becoming tiresome. And the sooner she had it out with that too-arrogant husband of hers, the better.

* * *

Drawing on all her strength, she stood and walked into her husband's office.

The Castellan looked up from his work as his wife stepped through the door linking their rooms, her eyes uncommunicative and shuttered, her body rigid. He sighed; that meant an argument was on the way.

"What is it, Nyssa?" he asked with a sigh, before looking back down on his work. The sight helped fuel Nyssa's ire, helped her keep her resolution strong, as her chin tilted defiantly.

"Castellan, I am come to ask you lift the guard on me when I venture from my rooms," she started formally, as she had been taught on Traken, "their presence…"

"Is necessary, Nyssa," the Castellan interrupted smoothly, still not looking at her.

"And why, may I ask?" Nyssa asked, keeping her frustration and anger under lock and key. They helped to keep her strong before her intimidating husband, but it would not do to lose her temper.

"You still pose a security threat, Nyssa. They are as much for your protection, as a means of keeping a close watch on you," the Castellan answered promptly, hoping that would satisfy her frustration. It didn't.

"Keeping a watch on me? What do you expect me to do? Run off to the Tardis and fly off somewhere to plot the assassination of the High Council? Or do you fear some enemy of Gallifrey plotting to use me in their schemes?" Nyssa asked acerbically, fighting to keep her temper. Outwardly, she remained calm and serene, but inside she was a simmering volcano. Ready to explode.

"You need not concern yourself with why, Nyssa. They are there, and they will not be disappearing anytime soon," the Castellan told her coldly.

"But-"

"The subject is closed, Nyssa." the Castellan looked at her then, his tone indicating an end to the conversation, arrogance and unfightable superiority in every syllable. Nyssa fought back the angry tears, and turned on her heel without another word.

* * *

In her quarters, Nyssa paced like a caged tigress, the skirts of her dress swirling around her feet. Anger, wounded pride and frustration warred for dominance of her mind. Anger and pride eventually won the battle.

"If he thinks he can keep me caged, he is seriously mistaken," she snarled under her breath. A bell tolled in the distance; it meant the evening gathering of the Time Lords in the Citadel, when they would meet in the leisure areas of the Capitol. It would be crowded; easy to lose a few guards in the crush. Nyssa felt her two guards fall in behind her as she left her quarters with that plan in mind. Her logical side warned that such a show of defiance would only increase the Castellan's unwillingness to grant her any freedoms. The other side told the logical side to shut up. A side effect of spending time in Tegan's company, she thought with a wry quirk of her lips.

Sure enough, when she reached the leisure areas of the Capitol, it was packed full of Time Lords and Ladies, all talking and discussing this and that. Nyssa, ignoring her guards' signs not to go into the crowd, plunged into the melee, moving fast. Her guards were lost in seconds, separated from her, as her much more agile frame slid through gaps and glided into spaces they could not. She reached the other side with a sigh of relief. She was free! Her mind filled with wild exultation, she quickly ducked down a side corridor, disappearing into the shadows.

* * *

The Castellan was just laying down his papers, all finished for the day, when Maxil's personal code contacted him on his private communication channel. He sighed wearily before he opened it, revealing the powerfully built Gallifreyan on a wall screen.

"What is it, Maxil?" he asked, settling back into his seat, easing the tired muscles in his shoulders.

"It's the Lady Nyssa, Castellan. She has gone missing," he answered archly.

"What?" the Castellan sat up abruptly, unable to credit his own hearing. That slip of a girl had managed to escape two of his best trained guards?

"She slipped away from her two guards whilst in the leisure areas, Castellan. Do you wish an alert to be raised?" he asked, his expression as blank as ever.

"No, no. I know where the foolish girl is. Have your men meet me outside my office in five minutes. And be discreet," he added, fixing Maxil with a hard stare.

"As you wish, Castellan," Maxil's image disappeared as the screen turned black.

* * *

The Castellan sighed wearily, anger, amusement and that same strange physical reaction setting his blood afire, warring for dominance. He hadn't thought that Nyssa would dare flout his authority so, even though he had seen the tears in her eyes, after she had confronted him that afternoon. Leaning back in his chair, he closed his eyes and opened the mental link that allowed him to see a vague sense of her location.

She was standing in a darkened corridor, alone, looking out of a window at the Gallifreyan night. That didn't help much, there were many corridors in the Citadel. But another look identified it as the corridor he had found her in the day the Doctor was executed. Was she there for a meeting? Was she, indeed, a traitor to the Time Lords?

But then he felt her fierce joy, the wildness inherent in her soul, chained and hidden away, the sense of freedom at having flouted his decrees. She felt suffocated and lost, denied the one thing she truly wanted. There was no hint of treachery or falsity in her mind at all. He felt her emotions as his own. And felt true pity for her.

But that did not change the fact that she had disobeyed him. Closing the link, he stood and swept out of his office, to the men waiting outside.

* * *

Nyssa shook off the feeling that she was being watched, standing beside the window, looking out. She had no desire to run, to further escape, but her very lack of guards was enough to bring a smile to her face. Her husband would not be happy with her, but she'd cross that bridge when she came to it. Outside the force shield that held the Citadel enclosed, night had fallen, the light of the moons gilding everything with a silver glow, the domes and spires of the Citadel glittering as though encrusted with diamonds. She sighed happily; if only she could feel the free wind on her face, this haven would be complete. She heard the familiar tramp of boots behind her, alongside the _swish_ of a robe trailing over the marble floor, and sighed. She leaned her head on the cool marble, and closed her eyes. Back to her gilded cage.

_Nyssa…_

Doctor? Nyssa straightened, eyes staring blindly ahead. As clear as night, she had heard his voice in her head. But he was dead, wasn't he?

The Castellan swept into the corridor, and halted at the sight of his wife. Nyssa didn't move, or give any indication that she had seen him, but the way she stiffened, he knew she knew he was there. He regarded her in the moonlight, as lovely a nymph, feeling a split in his emotions. Anger and compassion battled for dominance, and that moment, compassion was winning the battle.

"Castellan?"

The Castellan held his hand up, dismissing the Chancellery Guards. There was no need. They melted into the shadows. As he strode forward, he reflected on the clear message Nyssa was communicating. Her act of wilful defiance was just that; wilful. She hadn't slipped her guards to escape, or to commit treason. She had slipped them to let him know she would not allow him to cage her, that her will was her own. And just like it had been her will to give her guards the slip, so it was her will to return to him. To allow him to find her, or so she thought.

As the Castellan neared her, Nyssa raised her head, feeling a slight shiver as she sensed his emotions. Rage and a….compassion. The latter surprised her, as she drew herself up and turned to him as he stopped beside her. His grey eyes were unreadable, as he held out his hand commandingly. Without a shiver of trepidation at the fire she saw lighting up the silver, she gracefully gave him her hand. His fingers closed around hers, like a steel trap, as they slowly and gracefully walked back to their quarters.

As the Castellan handed her over the threshold of her rooms, she felt a familiar tug of wistfulness, as she entered the richly furnished, gilded cage. Her mind drifted back to that whisper that had reverberated through her thoughts in the corridor. It was the Doctor, she was sure of it. But he was dead; he had been executed right in front of her. So what had that been?

"I wish to speak to you, my lady, once I have finished my affairs," the Castellan's brusque tone punctured Nyssa's ruminations, as she turned her head to him.

"Very well, my lord," she enthused the respectful sentence with the right amount of challenge. She had no intention of apologising for her little transgression. The Castellan's eyes flickered, as he disappeared into his office. As soon as the door closed, Nyssa let her shoulders slump tiredly, eyes closed in weariness. Pacing to the window, she stood in front of it, crossing her arms. She would not allow him and all his Time Lord arrogance to intimidate her.

In his office, the Castellan stared blindly at the wall, seated in his office chair, his brown and gold robes swirling around him. His thoughts were full of one particular stubborn Trakenite. He knew what she desired, knew she would become more tractable if he allowed her that small freedom, but he could not countenance the risk. Could he?

* * *

Wiping his eyes tiredly, he stood and pressed the intercom.

"Nyssa, please come in here," despite the polite phrase, it was a downright order, one he knew would only rile her, but he would not beard the tigress in her den. A moment later she glided into his office, her face aglow with an inner fire. She was even more beautiful when she was angry, her inner beauty set aflame with the spirit and the intelligence he had seen in her from the first.

"My lord," her acerbic honorific pricked him, as he raised one eyebrow superciliously. She raised her own, just as arrogant, just as immovable.

"Nyssa, we need to discuss your little….stunt this evening. Apart from violating security, security put in place for your own protection, you deliberately disobeyed my orders. It must not happen again, understood?" he said, rising from his seat. Nyssa looked at him, handsome and arrogant, cloaked in ineffable superiority, felt the weight of his will, immensely strong, pressuring her to agree. But her own will was the equal of his, and they clashed as they looked into each other's eyes. She said nothing.

"I said, do you understand, Nyssa?" his second order, steeped in power and sheer command, was followed up as he walked up close to her.

"Why don't you trust me?" was her retort, cloaked in quiet dignity. He towered over her, as they stood close, within millimetres of each other, Nyssa swallowed, feeling trapped, as she looked up at him, knowing his intimidation tactic for what it was, fighting a secret battle within their eyes, he urging her to give in and submit to his orders, she refusing to do so. She would not give in.

But to her horror, as she looked at him, and saw something else flickering in his eyes than just anger and arrogance, her breath stuttered slightly, hitching, as his strength reached for her. She felt held, pinned under his gaze, even though he was not touching her. Her gaze flicked down of its own accord to his lips, hard and as stern as the rest of him, before they returned to his eyes, the solid grey transmuted into shimmering silver. She needed to get away from him, feeling her lids become somnolent under his gaze, their breaths mingling. They were both breathing heavily. To her chagrin, her voice was shaky when she spoke. Not even swallowing helped it to steady.

"I-I will not let you keep me encaged, like some animal. I am free," she said, refusing to lower her eyes again. His eyes flashed.

"You are mine, Nyssa. And you will obey me," his words were cloaked in unassailable male dominance and power. Nyssa fought not to let it affect her. It was already doing strange things to her spine. Her knees felt weak. She would not let him intimidate her.

"I am not subject to your authority, my lord. And never will be," with that, inwardly trembling, she turned on her heel and left the room.

Once she was safe in her own bedchamber, Nyssa sat on the bed, letting the trembling she had fought back in his husband's office free. She brushed a few ringlets out of her eyes, taking a deep, shuddering breath. What was that?

* * *

The Castellan still stood where Nyssa had left him, inwardly fighting a battle with himself. The sight of Nyssa storming from the room, alive and afire with her anger and her spirit had only made worse that indescribable physical reaction to her. It made him feel violent, primal…..primitive. Particularly when it came to her, his beautiful, intelligent, stubbornly wilful wife. It had taken all his considerable self-control to avoid taking her in his arms, physically enforcing his decrees on her. His arms had quite literally itched. He….wanted her. Wanted her submission, her surrender. To him alone.

The Castellan had never felt the like before.

He turned and sat back in his chair, tiredly relaxing into its back. Maybe it was time to trust her, as she had said. She may have circumvented his orders, but she had proven her trustworthiness. She had not attempted to escape, nor had she hidden from him. She had gone to a place where she had known she would be easily found. She had not run from him. Maybe it was time to trust her, or risk going insane. With a weary sigh, he took off the gold cap of his office, flinging it onto the desk. He would decide tomorrow. Closing his eyes, he opened the mental link, and brought up his wife's image, just to make sure she was safe. She was asleep in her bed, but her mind was chaotic, troubled. By him, but also by the ghost of memories rising to haunt her in her sleep. He stood and walked through the door into her quarters.

* * *

Nyssa was nestled in her covers, her long, glorious, brown hair tumbling over the pillows. Her slender limbs were hidden by cream covers and the white, floaty material of her nightgown, covering the line and curves of her body in diaphanous splendour, like the ocean's swell covering an sea nymph. One delicate hand showed above the froth of her covers, pale and fine. She seemed to be sleeping peacefully despite their confrontation, and the Castellan envied her the escape of oblivion as he sat on the side of the bed, content to watch her in slumber. But then a frown crossed her youthful brow, and she stirred slightly, still trapped in dreams.

"Father….? Father, please don't leave me! Master, spare him, take me, please! Don't hurt him!"

The Castellan watched her, his hearts wrenched by the look of complete and utter despair that crossed her face. No one should have to see such despair. Impulsively he took her hand, brushing away the curls tumbling onto her face with the other.

"Nyssa, it's only a dream. Wake up," he called gently. Nyssa's face spasmed in pain, struggling to throw off her nightmare.

"Adric…!"

"Nyssa! Wake up!" this time the Castellan's voice was layered with psychic power, as he gently opened up the mental link between them, calling her forth, waking her up.

Nyssa was drowning in misery, the faces of so many loved ones that she had lost whirling around her mind. But then a voice entered the dream, gentle, familiar, keeping the misery at bay, bringing her out of the darkness. Was it the Doctor's?

No, the Castellan's, she realised, as she finally threw off the last tentacles of nightmare, sitting up abruptly with a gasp. Her eyes met grey ones, and she realised her husband was sitting beside her on the bed, her hand in his, the other on her cheek. She was surprised to find tears on her cheek, but even more surprised to find pity and compassion in the Castellan's eyes. Fighting to draw breath, she couldn't stop herself from throwing herself into his arms. After an awkward minute they closed around her, soothingly caressing her back.

"Hush, Nyssa, it was only a dream. A nightmare," he whispered, his voice deep and calming, like a caressing hand in her mind. Slowly the tears and the sorrow lessened, and her shuddering became easier to control. Her husband's arms didn't ease around her, just held her tighter, giving her a rock, a support to help her regain her composure. The coolness of his hand gave her something to concentrate on. With another shudder she remembered their altercation, the feelings that had arisen from it, brought back by his touch.

"I'm sorry if I disturbed you," she mumbled into the robe by her mouth, resting her head on his lapel, her head beneath his chin.

"Not at all. How long have these nightmares been going on?" he asked. Nyssa found she enjoyed feeling the rumble of his voice against her ear.

"For weeks. I have them every night," she replied, reluctantly sitting up to look him in the eye. He looked exasperated.

"Why did you not come to me?" he asked. Nyssa looked at him. Without his headdress, his leonine hair glinting in the gentle lighting, he looked almost….human.

"They're nothing. I suffer from them often," she tried to brush them away. They were always there, at the back of her mind, waiting to remind her of all she had lost. Tegan had suffered them as well.

"I could have helped to control them, Nyssa. You needn't suffer from the past," he rebuked her gently, tilting her head to meet his eyes. Strangely, it felt perfectly natural to place his hand on her cheek, perfectly natural for her to lean into the caress.

"The past is what forms us, Castellan. I would not have it otherwise. My father always used to tell me that," she looked down with a swift, sad smile.

"Your father….?"

"Dead. Killed by the Master," her tone made it clear she would not talk further on the subject.

"I am sorry," he said stiltedly. When Nyssa looked back at him, her tears were evident but she seemed stronger.

"It seems so long ago now, and I have lost much more since then. My entire planet…." Nyssa trailed off, lost in memories. The Castellan's cold hand on her cheek brought her back to reality.

"I will leave you now. You must sleep," he made to rise, but Nyssa's hand clasped his wrist with surprising strength.

"Please don't leave me."

Her plea made his hearts contract.

"Nyssa….."

"Stay with me. Please just hold me, until I fall asleep," she begged him, her face heartbreakingly vulnerable. The Castellan felt something in him give way, and he acquiesced with a sigh. He stood with a reassuring smile, so Nyssa knew he wasn't leaving her. She smiled and lay back down, shifting onto her side. A moment later, she felt the bed dip as the Castellan's weight came down beside her. His arms came around her, hugging her back against him, his breath stirring the hairs on her nape. Nyssa felt surprisingly comfortable, being held so by her husband, at peace for the first time since she had stepped out of the Tardis and landed on Gallifrey. The memories kept at bay, she snuggled down into her bed, relaxing in her husband's arms, and fell asleep quickly.

The Castellan was surprised by how….enjoyable he found holding his wife was, the feeling of her soft weight against him, the curve of her waist beneath his arm, the silk of her hair under his cheek. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply of her scent, noting when her breathing deepened into slumber. Her hand unconsciously twined with his fingers, keeping him close. He caught his breath.

That physical reaction to her he suffered daily was held at bay, simmering beneath the surface, but swamped by the feeling of tenderness. Tonight, Nyssa had displayed her vulnerability to him, and he was not ignorant of the trust she had placed in him. Maybe it was time to place that reciprocal trust in her. Something had definitely shifted between them.

For the next few hours, the Castellan lay with his wife, listening to the sound of her sleeping in his arms, as the suns rose over Gallifrey.


	5. The Academy

Coming of Age

* * *

Nyssa awoke slowly, feeling someone's arms around her. She shifted slightly, feeling exceedingly comfortable. Cool breath washed over her neck, eliciting an odd shiver down her spine. Her mind was a blissful and blank. She turned onto her other side, and came nose to nose with the Castellan. Full memory rushed back, and she felt herself blush. His arms were like rock around her waist, and she couldn't have slipped free without waking him. His face looked so….innocent in sleep. Youthful and far more pleasant.

Nyssa couldn't recall the last time she had been held like this. Not by her father for years, nor by anyone else. She supposed her mother must have held her once, but she had died before her daughter was old enough to remember her. The Doctor had hugged her once; after Adric's death, but it hadn't felt like this, ever. Warm tingles erupted over her skin at the conscious thought of being held by her husband. When they weren't arguing, it was decidedly pleasant. Still feeling sleepy, she snuggled deeper into her husband's arms, laid her head on his shoulder, and fell asleep again.

* * *

When she next awoke, the Castellan had gone from her bed, and she was alone. The lights came on, a gentle glow that allowed her eyes to adjust. Pushing her curls away from her face, she sat up and pushed the covers of her bed away from her, swinging her legs out of bed. For the first time in days, she felt lighter, happier. Perhaps today, she would visit Councillor Hedin, or Lady Thalia rather than work. Or visit the Library again, and actually read something this time. Her guards she would just have to put up with. With that strange happiness buoying her, she stepped into her wardrobe. Just on the other side of her walls, she could already hear her husband at work in his office, consulting with someone. Maxil, probably, about whatever new security measures he was putting in place. Nyssa also knew that some sort of review was coming up, as well as the selection for the new crop of Chancellery Guards.

Feeling decidedly whimsical, humming to herself, she shook her head when the computer offered her usual choice of gown. She mentally sketched a gown of warm tan, high-necked and high-waisted, like a painting she had once seen of people in Regency England, from Tegan's homeworld. The long sleeves hugged the contours of her slender arms and shoulders, a circular cut out in the bodice of the dress revealing the skin of her décolletage and neck, but shielding that vulnerable area at the back of her neck. The dress fell in shimmering folds from beneath her breasts, down to her feet, moulding to her form like water. She slipped into some soft slippers, and then looked at her hair. After brushing it meditatively for a few moments, she decided to leave it down around her face, framing it in soft curls of mahogany brown, making her eyes seem that bit larger and rounder. She looked quite young; she thought dryly. Satisfied, she left the wardrobe.

Something was not right. Nyssa stepped out of her quarters and began her walk, when she realised there was no rhythmic _tramp_ of Chancellery Guards behind her. She stopped and looked behind her. There were no guards. Puzzled, she walked on. Had her all-too-arrogant husband finally relented and allowed her her freedom? As she passed into the more populous areas of the Capitol, leaving the Council wing, where all the Councillors were housed, as well as the Lord President, and into the residential wing, she thought hard on the matter. He had given no indication last night of giving in to her will, so why this sudden capitulation? Had she finally got through his thick skull? How could've last night changed anything? True, she had shown more vulnerability in those few minutes than at any other time since arriving on Gallifrey. But that couldn't have been the catalyst surely?

Nyssa was so immersed in her thoughts, she was barely aware enough to return the greetings of the various Time Lords and Ladies around her, all cordially acknowledging her presence in their midst. The beauty and mystery surrounding the Castellan's wife had only grown with the weeks, as the rumours about her had circulated. The Doctor's companion, the last remaining Trakenite, and a talented bioscientist to boot.

* * *

"Lady Nyssa?" a cautious voice drew her from her ruminations. She looked up into Damon's eyes.

"Damon! It is good to see you," she burst out enthusiastically, but he winced slightly. She sobered, and wiped the smile from her face, pretending to look down on him haughtily.

"I must speak with you, but not here. It is too dangerous," he whispered urgently, before moving around her with a respectful bow. Nyssa watched him go, feeling stupefied. What was that about?

Mentally shrugging her shoulders, she turned and began to walk back to the Council wing, intending to visit Lady Thalia, with a question on the technical project she had been pursuing. Like her, Thalia was a technical specialist, particularly in android robotics, as well as quantum and astrophysics.

Reaching Thalia's quarters, she sounded the door alert and waited. The door opened seconds later, and she stepped through. Thalia was sat on one of the sofas in her sitting room, black oblong things dotted around the octagonal chamber, high-ceilinged and painted in shades of grey and black. Thalia was a direct contrast with her voluminous red and tan gown, long fair hair swept up in a complex style, and the symbolic necklace around her neck. Nyssa had never dared ask just what it symbolised.

"Nyssa! The day finds you well? You look radiant this morning," Thalia greeted her, holding out a gloved hand as Nyssa glided forward. Smiling gently, she took Thalia's hand, inclining her head gracefully.

"Thank you, Lady Thalia. The day, does indeed, find me well,"

"Sit, sit. I gather that you are buoyed by the lack of certain presences in your shadow?" Thalia asked, in a tone that Nyssa struggled to make out. She realised it was gently teasing her. She smiled and blushed.

"Yes. The Castellan has removed my guards, although I do not know why. Do you know why my husband has lifted the guard on me?" she asked curiously. She knew Thalia and the Castellan were quite close, or as close as Gallifreyans allowed themselves to be. They were not the most naturally friendly of races.

"I'm afraid that man still surprises even me, my dear." Thalia smiled softly, her eyes travelling over Nyssa's form. She could tell something was different in the young woman.

Her hair shone in the soft light of her chambers, a gentle blush in her marble cheeks. But it was more than that; there was a light in her eyes that had been extinguished before, but was beginning to re-emerge. She wondered what the Castellan had done to put it back there.

"Well, my dear. You do not come to my quarters without a desire to learn something. So some refreshments, I think, and then we can discuss your project. Have you figured out how to align the proto-metric converters yet?"

Thalia and Nyssa discussed her project for some hours before they moved onto the finer points of android dynamics and quantum physics, Nyssa constantly asking questions, and Thalia patiently answering them. The Time Lady was inwardly impressed by the young woman's ability to learn, to soak up information like a sponge. It was only when a bell tolled somewhere, deep in the Citadel, that Thalia looked up from their discussion.

"Dear me, I must prepare for the Council meeting. If you will excuse me, Nyssa?" she stood regally. Nyssa rose also, sending her a smile as she turned to leave.

"Oh, and Nyssa?"

"Yes, my lady?" Nyssa turned back, the skirts of her gown swirling around her elegantly.

"Feel free to come to me at anytime. I enjoy our discussions, child,"

"As do I. Good day, my lady, and thank you," Nyssa inclined her head and left.

* * *

Some minutes later, Nyssa walked casually into the Library, feeling again that wonderful sense of her newfound freedom. She quickly walked into the Earth section of the library, musing on what to read. Earth may have been primitive in terms of technology, at least when she had visited there, but in terms of art and literature, it rivalled even Gallifrey. But this time nothing caught her interest. Feeling bored, she wandered into the Gallifreyan section, the light from a high window falling on her. The aisle was deserted, nothing moving. Everything had an almost somnolent air to it, and Nyssa could feel it settle in her bones. She wondered how old a world would have to grow before it reached the stage Gallifrey had. She had never learnt anything of its history; the Doctor had never been especially forthcoming. Maybe, now she was living here, it would be appropriate for her to learn more. Selecting a book, she quickly picked another one up on the finer workings of quantum physics and retreated to her rooms to read.

* * *

The Castellan returned to his quarters late that afternoon, and instantly felt the difference in Nyssa's mental serenity. Smiling slightly, he walked through the door in her quarters, and out to the small garden area. She sat on the wall, a golden nimbus of light haloing her figure, gleaming off her gown, reading in the sunshine, utterly absorbed in her book. Her back was to him as he quietly walked up behind her, watching her in the Gallifreyan sunlight. For the first time in weeks, she was happy.

Nyssa felt his presence behind her, but didn't move, didn't let on that she knew he was there. She felt his fingertips just graze her hair, where it draped her back in mahogany splendour, a strange shiver running over her skin. Her fingers shifted on the page of her book; the text becoming blurry and indistinct. What was happening to her, to them?

"What are you reading?" he asked finally, moving around into her line of sight. She blushed and looked down at her book, struggling to remember what it was.

"A brief history of Gallifrey in its early years; since I am living here now, I thought it appropriate that I learn more of the planet," she replied, her tone soft and gentle. The Castellan bent over her shoulder, eyes narrowed.

"If you are interested in our history, you should visit the Academy. The Hall of Images is a worthwhile sight; it documents our entire history, spanning a dozen millennia. I would be happy to escort you, at some point," he offered, leaving her side and taking up a seat opposite her on the wall. Nyssa watched him under her lashes, feeling suddenly shy in his presence.

"I would like that. Thank you," she smiled. Her husband returned it with one of his own, and she noted the tiredness in his face. "The Council meeting went well?"

"Yes. As well as can be expected," he answered shortly. He didn't want to discuss business and politics with her, didn't want to sully their interaction with the intrigue that was the lifeblood of Gallifreyan society. She was so innocent and pure.

"I see. I meant to thank you, incidentally, for releasing the Guard on me. It's just…..thank you," she trailed off, embarrassedly, not looking him in the eye. She felt his cold fingers on her chin, tilting her eyes to meet his. There was a gentleness in them she had never seen before, complimenting the strength and the will she saw in them daily. In many ways, and in private, he reminded her of the Doctor. She wondered if he had been like this before he had fled the planet of the Time Lords. She guessed she would never know now.

"I thought perhaps, that it was time to trust you, Nyssa. Don't break it," he said, slowly but firmly, as if choosing his words carefully. Nyssa met his eyes steadily.

"I won't," she vowed. He heard it, heard the promise inherent in her soft tones, and felt satisfaction.

"I have work to return to. We will visit the Academy in the coming days," he said softly, standing up, his fingers not leaving her skin. Nyssa's eyes never left his, searching his grey ones piercingly. His gaze travelled over her figure, before it returned to her eyes, a self-deprecatory smile on his lips, the hard grey transmuted to shimmering silver. His fingers followed the line of her jaw, before they left her skin, as he turned to walk back indoors. Nyssa watched him go, an odd feeling of bereavement and relief flooding her. Suddenly she wasn't so interested in her books anymore. What was happening between them?

* * *

Nyssa was in her laboratory a few weeks later, bent over her project. It was now over two months since the Doctor's death, and she knew something was afoot in the Citadel. Obviously whatever the Time Lords thought had been solved with the Doctor's death hadn't been so. It gave Nyssa a kind of vindictive pleasure that they were realising their error. She had seen nothing of her husband, and at night she could hear him in his office, still working as diligently as ever. Her nightmares had returned, but she refused to go to him. He was busy enough, without her complaining about something she had been dealing with alone for months. But after that one night, when he held her, the nightmares had become harder to handle alone. She sighed, pushing her hair out of her eyes, determined to continue with her work.

She hadn't seen Damon either. He had told her he had something to tell her, but as a lowly technical engineer, he couldn't approach her publicly without arousing suspicion. And Nyssa did not wish to endanger her new freedom, still so novel after a month under guard, by seeking him out. But despite her freedom, she was becoming bored. Sighing despondently, she picked up another tool and prodded at her technical experiment. But her mind wasn't on it; it was on the change in her interaction with her husband. It had started on distantly respectful and formal, to tense and discordant, to closeness and familiarity and now it had gone back to distance. And she didn't know if she was relieved or disappointed. A part of her was stirred by the physical reaction she could see in his eyes to her, and of hers to him. Another part of her distrusted and was scared by it. For once in her life, Nyssa didn't know what to do.

"Nyssa?"

Nyssa gasped and dropped the tool she was using, spinning around. A familiar hand caught the tool before it hit the floor, and she looked up into piercing grey eyes. After catching her breath, she raised an eyebrow.

"Nice catch."

The Castellan dropped the sonic lance back on the worktop. "Did I startle you?"

"Yes. I wasn't expecting you, Castellan," Nyssa suddenly noticed his appearance. It was decidedly different than his usual attire. Instead of the long, heavy, ornate over-robes he wore daily, he now wore a simple robe of light brown, with two dark brown stripes cutting the tunic in half. The ceremonial medallion of his office still hung from his neck, but the gold skull cap was missing, revealing the tawny blonde of his hair. He looked a great deal less forbidding and intimidating. The long robe showed off the strong lines of his shoulders, the surprising muscle on his upper arms, enclosed in brown fabric.

"Well, my work is done for the day, and I did promise to show you the Academy," he remarked diffidently. With a slight jolt, Nyssa remembered their conversation in the garden, some weeks ago.

"Yes, you did," she replied, her voice slightly breathless. She fought to control it, hiding her emotions behind a serene mask. The Castellan watched her guardedly, noting the slight rise in her colour, heightened by her beige dress, so similar to the colour of her skin, her long ringlets tumbling freely down her back. He held out his hand commandingly.

"Come," that one word had Nyssa standing in a second, eager to venture outside her laboratory for once, another, more potent desire to spend time in her husband's company and try to see through his own façade. She sensed, and had sensed from the first, that his façade, like stone, could be eroded, as could any stone by a strong enough tide. She wondered if she was destined to be the tide. She suppressed a shiver at his touch. "You have been cooped up too long."

* * *

The Castellan and his wife walked through the corridors of the Citadel, her arm in his. She felt strangely at peace, as if she were in the place she belonged. But just as another part of her had accepted her fate, another argued that she would never surrender so easily to the man who killed the Doctor. He had had the chance to investigate the Doctor's theories, but the Council had not even considered the possibility, until it was too late. The Doctor had been her father, since Tremas's death, and the Castellan had taken him from her. He was as bad as the Master.

No, that wasn't quite right. The Master only lived for destruction and anarchy; the Castellan was trying to preserve life and order. They were not alike, in any sense of the word. The Castellan just didn't understand that some anarchy and lack of order wasn't a bad thing. The two Time Lords were at different ends of the spectrum.

She was so confused!

"Nyssa, are you alright?" her husband's concerned baritone pierced Nyssa's thoughts.

"Hmm?" she looked up, into his eyes.

"You looked somewhat…..distant," he replied, his eyes searching hers. She blushed and looked away, noticing a change in the architecture of the Capitol.

"Are we nearing the Academy?" she asked. It seemed so, anyway. The marble of the Citadel had changed to cold stone, like an ancient monastery were it not for the immaculate condition of the stone. The ceiling arched above her head like a cathedral, carved and styled into an edifice of the Seal of Rassilon. It rose, level upon level, all dedicated to the education of Gallifreyans. Students and Professors strode across the central plaza, dressed in sombre robes of black and crimson, usually with some small indication of their chapter colours. Nyssa gasped, as she let go of the Castellan's arm, and gazed up at the ceiling, at the great, embossed Seal of Rassilon above their heads, walking forward to stand in the very centre of the plaza. It was incredible.

"Impressive, isn't it? Took decades to build, during the very beginnings of Gallifrey," the Castellan came to stand beside her, watching her expression.

"Impressive isn't the word. It's…." Nyssa, for once, was speechless.

"Come. You'll be gawking for eternity before we've even reached the Hall of Images."

The Castellan took her arm again, and they walked on, through a side corridor, passing several Time-Lords-in-training, all dressed in different coloured robes. They seemed to be of different clans. The Castellan noticed her observations.

"Time Lord society is divided into different houses, or chapters, and is identified by their house colours. Prydonians wear orange and red, Arcalians wear green, and Patrexeans prefer heliotrope," he explained, as they strolled. Nyssa turned to him, her eyes alive with curiosity.

"How young do you enter the Academy?" she asked, remembering what she had learnt of Time Lord history.

"At the age of eight. Once out of the Looms, it is imperative that young Gallifreyans are educated immediately. The mind can be very impressionable at that age."

"The Looms?"

"Yes. It is our sole way of reproduction. How much of our early history have you learned?" the Castellan looked at her narrowly. Nyssa felt slightly alarmed.

"I have read up to the rebellion of Rassilon against the Pythia, not any further. Why? What happened?" she asked, eager to learn. The Castellan's sombre expression dissolved into a wondering smile.

"I have always wondered what the Doctor found in dragging companions along with him in his exile. Now I know," he chuckled. Nyssa stiffened slightly at the mention of the Doctor, but let it pass. He did not mean to torture her. "Very well, after the Pythia was overthrown; she cursed Gallifrey with sterility. The night she departed this world, every unborn child on the planet was killed, and reproduction was made impossible. So we had to find another way to produce more Gallifreyans to replace the loss; and so the Looms were invented. Using DNA extracts of the Ancient Gallifreyans, the population was maintained and replaced, whenever a death occurred. But the original DNA has been corroded; replaced with the variations of the younger Gallifreyans, the purity destroyed. There has not been a 'natural' birth on Gallifrey for millennia," the Castellan explained, his voice dry and cold, revealing nothing. Nyssa darted a sidelong glance at him, sensing something else behind the tale. She mused on the Time Lords' history. Maybe that was why they were so cold; the place lacked life and laughter. It lacked children; it was full of discipline and scientific rationale, but it was dead. No, not dead, but awaiting rejuvenation. But how long that rejuvenation would take, Nyssa couldn't tell.

"How long do Time Lords live?" she asked, her eyes settling on the nearest Gallifreyan. She couldn't really tell, but this one was elderly looking, but that did not mean anything. Her Doctor had been youthful looking, and yet older than the incarnation she had first met. Appearance meant nothing when it came to a Time Lord.

"Time Lords can live up to ten thousand years, though few reach that milestone. I, myself, am eight hundred years old, in my fifth incarnation, but that Time Lord you are staring at is only three hundred years old, and most likely in his third regeneration. Physical appearance means nothing. Incidentally how long do Trakenites live?" he asked, frowning slightly. He had never thought about her lifespan, lengthened as it would be by living on Gallifrey, but it suddenly seemed odd not to have bothered to find out.

"I will live to be five hundred years old. The Keeper's lifespan was extended to over a thousand years, but I am glad to have a shorter lifespan. I would not wish to live beyond all that I love, forced to watch it die and wither away," Nyssa replied. "So you won't be getting rid of me for some time," she added, trying to lighten the conversation. Her husband chuckled, and covered her hand on his sleeve with his own.

"I am glad to hear it," he whispered, Nyssa's gaze flying to his face. A part of her felt stunned, another intrigued by his comment. Maybe the centuries she would have to spend with him might not be as bad as she anticipated.

* * *

"Castellan! Lady Nyssa!" a call behind them had them both turning, to find Councillor Hedin gliding up behind them, a wide smile on his face. Nyssa inclined her head as they met, smiling fondly.

"Hedin! You are well, I take it?" the Castellan asked.

"Perfectly. What business do you have in the Academy? I would have thought the security review would be taking up all of your time," Hedin continued, his eyes fixed on the Castellan's face. Nyssa frowned, sensing the slightly impertinence of the question.

"Nyssa expressed an interest in Gallifreyan history. I thought to show her the Hall of Images," the Castellan sent him a repressive glance, any irritation hidden beneath his calm veneer. Hedin turned to Nyssa.

"Ah yes. My lady, how are you faring? I have not seen you for some time; Thalia has been keeping me up to date with your progress," he asked courteously.

"I am well, and busy. I am glad to leave my laboratory at times. Too much work can make the mind stale," she replied, watching Hedin guardedly. Something was not right.

"I see. You have been spending too much time around our illustrious Lord President. It is a common saying of his," Hedin snorted softly, a curious smile on his face.

"He cannot talk; he spends more time communing with the Matrix than any other President before him," the Castellan interjected wryly, with a slight shake of the head. Nyssa watched the body language between the two of them, studying the tiny shifts and nuances that made up the game of Gallifreyan life.

"Well, I must take your leave, Castellan, and that of your fair wife. My Lady," he bowed, and swept down another side corridor, leaving Nyssa standing and wondering what on Gallifrey had just happened.

"Come. The Hall of Images is this way," her husband's arm pulled her in another direction, as they walked in the opposite direction. Nyssa cast the incident from her mind. But something of Hedin's frown continued to surface in her mind. For some reason, he was not pleased to see her and her husband on good terms. But why she couldn't fathom.

* * *

The Hall of Images was a great long corridor, fashioned from the same stone as the rest of the Academy, except the walls were covered with graceful paintings, or so they seemed, depicting scenes of legend. Nyssa walked past scenes of ancient Time Lords, the building of the Citadel, the fall of the Pythia; the supernova that gave Gallifrey mastery over time. Each and every one captured forever, made immortal, bright and as vivid as real life. Alongside each panel, was another smaller series of paintings, depicting scenes of significant events from the Universe, events that had become part of the Web of Time. Nyssa looked at them curiously, noting that Earth played a large part in the paintings. Her eyes travelled along the walls, entranced and amazed, until she stopped. Her breath caught in her throat, and she felt tears, tears she had long thought cried out, spring to her eyes.

Traken was there; preserved in glorious colour, fading into nothingness as the entropy field took its toll. Nyssa struggled to keep back her tears, fought not to let her husband see her distress.

"Nyssa? What is it?" he noticed anyway, noted how little his wife seemed to be breathing. His eyes followed hers to the painting, understanding instantly. She seemed spellbound, as one single teardrop fell, like a solitary diamond. He turned Nyssa to face him. "Nyssa, I'm sorry. I didn't think about the second panel of images,"

"It's alright. It's just….." she trailed off, not looking at him. He felt his hearts contract, pity washing over him.

"What?" he prompted gently. With a visible effort, Nyssa drew herself back up, flashed him a patently false smile, and turned away from the image.

"Nothing. I think we should return to our quarters, my lord,"

Nyssa could feel his eyes on her the entire way back to her rooms. She felt dead inside.


	6. Traken

Coming of Age

* * *

Nyssa sat by her window, the night breeze flowing freely through the open casement, the skirts of her white nightgown and spring green over robe trailing over the sill. She stared out at the stars, at the gap in space where Metulla Orionsis had once been. Ever since she had seen its image, captured forever in the Hall of Images, she had been full of a deep, dead sorrow, numbing her. She hadn't felt like this since she had watched her world fade from existence before her eyes. She wandered through the Courts in her mind, through the streets of her home, the light corridors of her home. She saw the lush green groves, and the sparkling fountains again, the tall, monolithic figure of the Melkur that brought ruin on Traken. For a long time, she had buried the feelings of sorrow and loss, finding purpose in the life the Doctor had given her; but now he was gone, seeing her home planet again…she wished she could have had a chance to say goodbye.

_Nyssa…?_

"Doctor?" Nyssa sat up, her spine straightening in a second. "Doctor?"

"Nyssa?" her husband's voice snapped her out of her trance. She turned to see him come through the door from her sitting room, a serious expression on his face. She quickly rearranged her features into a pleasantly guileless one.

"Yes, husband?" she asked, unbending her legs, and pushing away from the sill. The skirts of her robe fell around her, as she stood gracefully, facing her husband calmly.

"I was worried about you. This afternoon at the Academy; when you saw the image of Traken….you were distressed," he said stiltedly. With a slight shock, she realised he was showing emotion, compassion and concern for her, trying to breach the barriers all Gallifreyans erected from centuries of indoctrination and discipline.

"There is nothing wrong with me. I was just….startled, that's all," she said, sending him a reassuring smile. He shook his head, striding forward to take her hand, holding it against his chest. Beneath her palm she could hear the beat of his twin hearts.

"Nyssa, I know you well enough now to tell when you're hiding your emotions. You were hiding them at the Academy, and you're hiding them from me now. Tell me what's wrong,"

Nyssa looked up into eyes of sylvan grey, and for a moment they were overlaid with sapphire blue, before they snapped back. She mentally shook herself. The Castellan was not the Doctor, and just because she kept hearing his voice, she shouldn't extrapolate. But it was so tempting to let her guard down, to lean on the shoulders of someone far stronger than her. Maybe she should, just this once.

"I just…realised how much I missed Traken. When the entropy field was released; I watched as my home faded away forever," she told him haltingly, fighting to keep her voice steady. "I know history cannot be changed, that it is gone forever, but I wish-"

"Yes?"

"I wish I could have said goodbye," Nyssa finished sadly, turning back to the window, her hand dropping back to her side. The Castellan watched her proud back, the long trailing ringlets brushing the bottom of her shoulder-blades. He longed to reach out and touch the silk, but something within him stopped him. But watching the sorrow in her young face, a sorrow no-one, not even a Time Lord could imagine, he felt something in him shift. An impulsive decision was taking form, like a little niggle at the very periphery of his brain. His eyes rose to Nyssa's in her reflection; and felt that little voice in his head again.

"Nyssa, get changed and be ready to leave," he said suddenly, fighting not to think too much. If he did, he might have second thoughts.

"What? Where am I going?" Nyssa whirled, to find her husband halfway out the door. He turned to her with a smile so familiar, it almost broke her heart to see it. It was so like the Doctor's.

"To say goodbye."

* * *

Nyssa paced her room, waiting for her husband's return. She had no idea where he was taking her, or why, but he'd had a glint in his eye very reminiscent of the Doctor. Maybe they were from the same chapter. The thought made her smile; her oh-so controlled, rigidly disciplined, autocratic husband, related to the Doctor?

She pushed her long waves of hair from her eyes, the folds of her navy blue cloak swirling about her, mingling with the cerulean blue skirts of her gown.

Where was he? Agitated, she walked towards the door, intending to look for him, when he suddenly appeared. Nyssa stopped and stared.

The Castellan had completely shed his ceremonial robes, opting instead for the type of long tunic, trousers and boots that the Chancellery Guards wore, except in black, and lacking the weaponry and helmet. It heightened the gold of his hair. He held out his hand authoritatively, and Nyssa glided forward to place her hand in his, fire to his ice, feeling a shiver run through her as she looked into his deep grey eyes.

"Come."

The Castellan kept hold of his wife's hand as they slipped through the deserted corridors of the Citadel, staying in the shadows. Nyssa was still mystified; the darkened hallways unfamiliar. The only Gallifreyans out of their quarters were the Chancellery Guard, only seen at the periphery of her vision. Looking ahead, she gasped silently as she recognised where her husband was taking her. The doors of the security compound loomed ahead of them, and through them, the Tardis. She fought to breathe.

* * *

The Tardis stood in the centre of the room, still blue and battered-looking. The Castellan didn't stop, but walked past it. Nyssa looked back at it hungrily, but was glad they did not stop. Wherever her husband was taking her, it obviously required a Tardis, and she wasn't sure how she would feel if the Castellan took the Doctor's. He led her through a code-locked door into a long hall, tall gracefully fluted columns standing in alcoves. As he took her over to one, she realised they were Tardises, with fully functioning chameleon circuits. The Castellan handed her through a small door and she stepped into a very familiar Tardis console room, gleaming and thrumming with that comforting technical hum. The doors closed behind her, and Nyssa walked forward to place a trembling hand on the shining console. Her hand met cold metal; she felt a small spark run through her. She exhaled tremblingly, so many memories rushing through her head. She felt her husband's equally cool hand on her back, as he came up beside her. She looked around into his eyes.

"Ready?" there seemed to be a subtle challenge melded into the grey of his eyes. She sensed that there was more to it than asking her if she was ready for takeoff. So much had changed in two months; she had changed. She was no lost little girl anymore. And he was not a faceless Time Lord anymore; he was her husband. She no longer denied the reality, but welcomed it. If this was to be her life now, then better that she accept it and try to find good within it, than to remain bitter and resentful for all her days, never allowing herself the chance of happiness. The Doctor would not want that for her.

"Yes. Where are you taking me?" she asked softly, as the Castellan expertly typed co-ordinates into the computer, and the time rotor began moving. It sounded a lot healthier than the Doctor's Tardis.

"I told you. To say goodbye," he replied enigmatically, moving around the console, as it disappeared into the vortex, leaving Gallifrey far behind.

"Anything I can do to help?" Nyssa offered, watching her husband move interestedly. He was as graceful and assured when piloting as the Doctor had been, despite the obvious truth that he didn't spend much time in a Tardis. He looked up from the controls with a surprised expression.

"You can fly a Tardis?" he asked incredulously. Nyssa didn't know whether to find his expression amusing, or to feel insulted.

"I understand the principles of it, and the Doctor taught me the functions of many of the controls. It is not difficult to grasp," she shrugged, moving around to his side.

"Thank you, Nyssa, but no. That was a type 40 Tardis; this is somewhat more advanced, and therefore more complicated to pilot," he turned away, but Nyssa's hand covered his on the controls. He turned his head to face her.

"So teach me, then. I am not unintelligent," Nyssa said archly, one eyebrow raised. He chuckled.

"No, you're most assuredly not that. Very well, hold that down there. Now that is the polarity reverser….."

And so they filled the silence, the Castellan instructing Nyssa how to pilot a type 60 Tardis. To his surprise, she grasped the concepts quickly and was a competent student, absorbing everything he told her like a sponge. Yet another side of his wife he was learning about. Two minutes later, the rotor clanged as the Castellan's Tardis landed. Nyssa looked at her husband, ill-concealed excitement pouring from her. He opened the doors, and she rushed out, an exhilarated smile on her lips.

She emerged into a covered courtyard, lush plants and stone benches crowding the polished wooden floor, gleaming like liquid topaz. A set of steps led up to an intricately moulded gate, high and covered with trailing vine leaves, barring the way into a grove, populous with trees and plants, shadowy in the night. Behind her the Tardis had settled into the shape of a column, innocuous and inconspicuous amongst the others. With a sharp gasp, she recognised her surroundings. She had grown up in them. They were in the Consular Court of Traken, her home for twenty one years.

Before the entropy field, before the Master and the Doctor, and the murder of her father and stepmother.

But it had been destroyed. So how could she be standing here, now? She turned around, her cloak swirling with her movement, to face her husband as he exited the Tardis.

* * *

"When are we?" she asked, her voice a mere whisper. He took her hand, twining his fingers with hers.

"Twenty years before Traken was destroyed by the entropy field. Time enough to say goodbye," he replied gently, compassion radiating from every line of his face, lighting up his eyes.

"But won't you get in trouble for this?" she asked. The Doctor had always been adamant about not interfering with established events in history, even to the point that he had refused to attempt to save Adric.

"As long as we do not interfere, the Time Lords will never know. Understand this, Nyssa, there must be no interference, no forewarning, nothing. Understand?" he looked at her sternly, until she nodded.

"I understand."

* * *

Nyssa walked forward, looking towards the grove that she knew housed the Melkur, or the Master's Tardis as she now knew. Cassia was but a young girl now, her father still married to her mother. She was but a year old. She felt that twinge of temptation, how many lives would be saved if they were warned of the true identity of the Melkur?

She sighed, stopping in the centre of the courtyard. From her vantage point, she could see the road to the Court, where the Keeper and the Consular Council met to run the Traken Union. She could see the road to her house, the second story windows visible above the lower slung buildings around it. She felt the Castellan's eyes on her, but she could not bear his pity at that moment. She did not want it. She didn't know what she wanted.

She looked up at the windows of her home, and gasped. Her father stood outlined in one of the windows, his hands on the upper arms of a woman holding an infant, waving its arms and reaching towards the long ringlets of burnished brown that hung from the woman's head. Was it her mother? She had no memories of her mother; she had died before her third birthday. But now she could see her mother resembled her greatly. Her eyes travelled onto her father, his long hair and full beard a deep black, looking down on his daughter lovingly. Nyssa felt her eyes tear up, but there was a sense of catharsis in the reaction, as if she was releasing her grief.

"Nyssa?" her husband's hand re-entwined itself with hers, squeezing gently. She turned her head to him slightly, and he sighed.

"I must warn them," she whispered, darting forward but he caught her waist, pulling her back into his arms, shackling her waist in their circle, his mouth at her ear.

"Nyssa, no!" he whispered furiously, "We cannot interfere!"

His words punctured her irrational thoughts, and she stopped trying to escape him, standing stiffly in the circle of his arms.

"But I can save them! I can save them from the Melkur!" she replied, her eyes fixed on the scene in front of her. Her mother she could not save, but Cassia and Tremas she could.

"Nyssa, you cannot change established history. I'm sorry, but I can't let you," he replied, and she felt the steel in the arms around her body, knew she couldn't escape their embrace. "What is it? What will happen to them that you are so desperate to stop?" he asked, needing to understand. Nyssa stopped fighting, and eventually the steel of her spine collapsed, and she relaxed into her husband's arms. They tightened around her waist, and felt safe, protected by the morass of emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

"A year before I was born, a Melkur arrived on the planet-"

"Melkur?"

"The name we give to the evil beings that are caught in the Web of Harmony and calcified. It arrived here, in the grove, its baleful influence imprisoned. They do not last long before they merely pass into the soil. The one that stands in the grove right now was the first in centuries. Cassia, my future stepmother, was instructed to care for it. And she did, for many years, until she was grown and a Consul, and I took over the stewardship. By then, my father was widowed and they were married. I was twenty years old, still a child. It was after that, when my father was named as Keeper nominate, that the trouble started. The Melkur was really the Master, in his Tardis, calcified and paralysed. He schemed to gain control of the Keepership, and used Cassia to do it. She died when he took control. Then, when the Doctor and Adric foiled his plans, he took possession of my father's body. I didn't find out until I found him on Logopolis…." She trailed off, unable to speak around the lump in her throat.

"Who was Adric?" the Castellan asked, his tone blunt but gentle. He wasn't trying to cause her pain, but it was inevitable if he was to understand her.

"Adric…..Adric was a companion of the Doctor's, from E-Space. He was killed when Cybermen took control a ship bound for Earth in the far future, turning it into a flying bomb. Adric and some of the crew were left on board, and they tried to disable the Cyber device that controlled the flight computer. It interfered with the warp systems, and they travelled back in time some sixty five million years. It turned out the freighter was the reason for the extinction of the dinosaurs on Earth. Adric didn't make it before the freighter crashed into Earth. I watched from the Tardis as the freighter was destroyed," Nyssa replied.

As she stopped speaking, she felt as though a great pressure was taken from her chest, like a boil had been lanced of poison. The tears fell free, as she looked up at the mother she had never known, and the father she knew would die in twenty years time. For a second, an infinitesimal moment in time, her mother's eyes left her infantile daughter and met her adult daughter's eyes in the courtyard below. For one moment chocolate brown met chocolate brown, and held, before her mother looked to her husband with a smile, hushing her baby soothingly. Nyssa turned away, a sad smile on her face. The Castellan searched her face concernedly, looking for signs of pain or distress. There was pain in her youthful face, but there was healing also. With a nod, he released her, offering his hand instead. Nyssa took it, tearing her eyes away from her family, and back to the Tardis, back to her new life as Lady Nyssa of Gallifrey. She could not live in the past, and maybe this journey would help her to move on.

She looked at her husband, considered the risk he had taken to allow her to say goodbye to her home, considered the kindness emerging from his arrogant exterior, the compassion and the morality. She reached out and laid a hand on his cheek, feeling the smooth planes of his icy skin beneath her warm palm.

"Thank you for this," she whispered, a gentle smile on her lips, her tears sparkling on her cheek, yet feeling strangely at peace.

* * *

He opened his mouth to reply, when they both heard a sound coming from one of the adjoining corridors. He grabbed Nyssa and hauled her into the space behind a column, imprisoned between his body and the wall. Both their breathing alleviated, they listened as footsteps echoed in the courtyard, yards from their hiding place. Nyssa was barely aware of them, her consciousness taken up by the hard body pressed against her, setting her skin alive by his weight. She kept her eyes averted, fighting to breathe, crushed as she was against him, every rise and fall of her chest bringing her closer to him. She could sense him listening, seemingly unaffected by their closeness, and she prayed he couldn't feel her reaction to him.

The Castellan was existing in some kind of heaven and hell, feeling the soft weight of his wife pressed against his full length, every breath she took pressing her more firmly against him. He fought to keep his awareness on whoever was yards away from discovering them, but it kept sliding back to his wife. The physical reaction to her was much worse, much more compelling and irresistible, as he looked down at her, her face flushed, her lips parted where she was breathing heavily, her long hair loose around her face. The diamond tracks of her tears still gleamed in the gentle moonlight shining into the Court from a glass skylight in the ceiling. He trapped her gaze in his, noting the appearance of two men, guards seemingly, appearing momentarily in the gap between two columns, moving towards the grove.

"The Forsters. Stewards of the grove," Nyssa explained in a strained whisper, as her gaze flicked down to his lips and back, fighting to avoid blushing. A strange compulsion was throbbing in her blood, drumming in time to the double heartbeat she could feel thrumming against her breast. She was achingly aware of him. What was this feeling welling between them? What was it that was turning the grey of his eyes to shimmering silver, and the muscles of her body to gelatine?

His hand left her waist, rising to her jaw, cradling it slightly, tilting her head up. Nyssa felt her breathing hitch, her eyes fluttering closed as their breaths mingled. He bent his head.

"Castellan…" Nyssa's sentence was cut short, as his lips gently touched hers, caressing them. She sank against him with a soft sigh, feeling a excitement coursing through her veins, coupled with curiosity. She opened her mouth to him, pressing it back against him, and felt his response to her. She was helpless, feeling fire scorch her body. She knew this was a kiss, and she had seen her father and Cassia kiss once, on their wedding day, and she guessed her father must have kissed her mother, but she herself had never experienced it. But the prospect of continuing the activity was growing more alluring by the minute, were it not for the lack of air, making it hard to think beyond the muscled body holding her a willing captive.

She was an innocent that much the Castellan surmised from her response. She had never done this before. He had, once before in his youth, when often young Time Lords would experiment with other races. But that time had nothing on this, so fraught with emotions and that compulsion setting his blood afire, that need he had felt since the first moment he had set eyes on her. That same need that had heightened with each sight of her, their bonding ceremony, the argument in his office when she had refused to let him intimidate her; the night he had held her whilst she slept, and that day at the Academy. It waxed ever stronger, especially with this new facet of their relationship, and he could feel the same emotion he felt rising in her. But she was an innocent, and he didn't wish to frighten her.

Her husband drew away slightly, and Nyssa sucked in a quick breath, her lids flicking up slightly, strangely heavy, and met his. She licked her dry lips, feeling as though he had taken possession of her, through that one embrace. Scientific curiosity mixed with a heady desire, a need for more. She closed her eyes, stretched up in his arms and pulled his lips back to hers as he made the reciprocal movement. This kiss was more fervent, headier, intoxicating. Nyssa's skin felt aflame, as he pressed her back into the wall, levering herself up in his arms so she could twine her arms about his neck. His hand left her jaw to slide into her hair, twining with the curls. She felt no fear, just need as their embrace increased in passion and intensity. Perhaps it was the trip to her homeworld, the catharsis she felt, the release of so much grief that needed an outlet, but she suspected this would have happened at some point. So there was nothing to cloud her enjoyment, both of the moment and of him, as her hands slid into his tawny hair, finding it surprisingly soft beneath her fingers. She could feel herself dizzying from lack of oxygen. It felt as though their lips were fused, unable to detach. Indeed she didn't want to.

But this kiss came to an end, as the Castellan released Nyssa, his eyes leaving her reluctantly to check the courtyard.

"Come. We should return to Gallifrey," he took her arm and towed her across the courtyard and back to their Tardis. Nyssa's gaze turned towards the window, but her parents had gone, the light extinguished. As her husband opened the doors, she looked around her home and said goodbye. Without looking back, leaving the past behind her, she walked into the Tardis behind her husband.


	7. Scientific Curiosity

Coming of Age

* * *

The Castellan's Tardis rematerialised in the docking hall. The doors opened and Nyssa emerged, flicking her hood up, as her husband joined her, locking the doors behind him. He paused for a moment, looking up at the ship, his hand lingering on the marble column the Tardis became.

"I had forgotten how exhilarating piloting one of these can be," he murmured, momentarily forgetting the presence of his wife, until she stepped up beside him, and took his hand.

"Maybe you should do it more often," she suggested quietly. He turned to her quickly.

"I will not become a renegade like the Doctor,"

"I wasn't suggesting you should. But perhaps you can understand him better, why he chose to travel rather than to remain on Gallifrey all his life,"

"Perhaps. Sometimes I think of Gallifrey as an insect trapped in amber; frozen, unable to move forward. The Doctor was of a sect too deviant and hot-headed to ever exist in harmony here," the Castellan continued quietly, before he sighed tiredly and turned away from the Tardises. "Come. It is late,"

* * *

Together they left the docking hall, hurrying past the Doctor's Tardis, quietly ticking over, humming in its storage cubicle. They slipped through the corridors of the Citadel, remaining undetected, until they reached their quarters, slipping inside. The lights flickered on, and Nyssa felt that same warm feeling welling through her whenever she stepped onboard the Tardis. She was home.

She slipped her cloak off and draped it over the end of one of the sofas in her sitting room, wearily rolling the tired muscles of her shoulders. She was exhausted, the fatigue running bone-deep, coupled with a wild exhilaration. It had felt good to be back in a Tardis, travelling if only for a short time. She turned to face her husband, who had followed her into her rooms, his face in shadow. She could sense his gaze on her, feeling heat prickle her skin. Memories of their kiss surfaced, and she suppressed a shiver. For some reason she felt strangely shy of him. Gathering her courage, she walked over to him, and placed her hand on his cheek.

"Thank you for taking me to Traken. For allowing me to say goodbye," she whispered. She couldn't see his eyes but she stretched up on her toes and pressed a kiss to his lips. His arms came around her, pulled her to him, and she sank willingly into his embrace, eager to learn more of this new interaction between them. Was this passion? This all-consuming desire for physical contact, for the simple communion of lips against lips, body against body?

Scientific curiosity mixed with heady desire enthused Nyssa's body, as her hands slid from his chest to his hair, twining her fingers in the tawny mass. His hands, encircling her waist, tightened abruptly, their kiss increasing in intensity, as if he wanted to consume her. She sensed he desired something from her; to appease the possessiveness stirring in his strong frame, in the steely arms holding her captive. He pushed her back a few steps, until she felt the edge of the sofa against her legs, and she let herself fall back, lying down, taking him with her, their lips still locked.

She felt his weight atop her, and a wave of hot pleasure rushed over her skin. She enjoyed the feel of him, that strong, hard body that she suspected was just as lean and toned as the Doctor's was. She slid her hands down from his hair, over the broad line of his shoulders, feeling the muscle bands beneath her fingers tense at her touch. He broke from her lips, captured her hands and pinned them either side of her head, breathing heavily. Nyssa's own was not much better as she looked up into his eyes, and saw the fire flickering there. He seemed to sense her confusion, the silver orbs above her darkening when she tried to moisten her dry mouth.

"Don't. This….desire is difficult enough to control as it is," he murmured against her lips, his voice harsh and gravelly.

"Is that what this is? Physical desire?" she asked, completely and utterly breathless. She arched slightly beneath him, operating on pure instinct.

"Yes. It is not…something I am used to dealing with," he ground out, sounding as though he were speaking through gritted teeth.

"Why not? I understand about the Pythia's curse, but-" her question was cut off by her husband's mouth taking hers, releasing her wrists with a groan. Nyssa blinked; did her oh-so-controlled husband just _groan_?

But then all thought was wiped away by the sensation of her husband's lips against her neck, as her breath stuttered. She felt his hand shift, sliding beneath her back and pulling her up against his body slightly. Nyssa arched and let herself be devoured, feeling his hands leave her back, and slide down her leg, following the curve through the silk of her dress.

The Castellan paused as his lips reached the hollow at the base of her neck. Was he frightening her? The strength of his need for her unnerved him; an emotionally controlled, eight hundred year old Time Lord, and how easily it undermined his control. She got under his skin, making that physical reaction to her rise in his blood. The feelings were so compulsive….so primitive, but he could not even contemplate turning his back on such emotion. It was too insidious to ignore.

Nyssa was drowning in pleasure, and the feel of his breath caressing the bare skin at her throat, no longer cool but as warm as her own made a soft moan escape her lips. At that her husband's lips returned to hers, fiery and aggressive. Nyssa buried her hands in his hair again, returning his kiss avidly, her mind a blank sheet.

An alert ripped them from their need, their kiss interrupted. The Castellan closed his eyes, fighting back the frustration and the need that threatened to overwhelm them both. He brushed one last kiss across her lips, before his weight left her, and she sat up slowly. She felt completely shaken, awash with emotions she had never felt before. She felt her husband's fingers on her jaw, and looked up. His face was once more in shadow, his eyes burning. She leaned into his hand and smiled reassuringly, sensing the concern in his eyes.

"I have work to attend to, Nyssa," he sighed, his voice a low growl.

"Go. I should rest," she replied quietly, wishing that the interruption had never occurred.

"We will continue this discussion later," he said, as he gently caressed her cheek, before turning on his heel and leaving her rooms. Nyssa watched him go, feeling a denied yearning fill her soul. When the door closed behind her husband, she sighed and retired to her bedroom.

* * *

The Castellan leaned on the wall of his office, his hearts still labouring. The temptation he had seen in her eyes was still potent; urging him to ignore the alert from his wrist comms unit and go back to her. He sighed, before walking to his desk and touching the intercom.

"Yes, Maxil?" he asked, irritably. It was rather late at night, even for a Guardsman.

"Castellan, evidence has been discovered of a potential attempt on the Lord President's life."

* * *

Nyssa changed for bed, slipping beneath its covers gratefully. Feeling her kiss-swollen mouth with her fingers, she smiled and lay back against the pillows. She wasn't too exhausted yet, maybe she would read.

Her mind was too full of all that had occurred, the passionate need she had discovered in her husband, and in herself. Why had he done that, taken her to Traken? Why had he kissed her?

Nyssa's hand absentmindedly reached for her book on astrophysics, and felt the crackle of paper against her fingers. She looked at her book, and noticed a small scrap of paper poking from the side of it. She frowned; she hadn't left anything to mark her page. She opened the book, and took out the paper scrap.

It was a folded piece of white paper, and as she unfolded it, she paled. Reading the words on it, her hand started to shake, and the book dropped to the floor.

The Doctor was alive.


	8. Curiosity Killed The Cat

Coming of Age

* * *

Nyssa hesitated outside the door of her husband's office. It would have been three weeks since they had last been in each other's company, that night when he had taken her to Traken, and the life Nyssa had promised to live to the full had changed abruptly.

After evidence had been found of an attempt on the Lord President's life, in the form of a neutrino bomb beneath the Panopticon, the entire Citadel had been put on alert, as the Castellan and the Chancellery Guard strove to discover the perpetrators. No-one had been allowed in or out of the Capitol for weeks. And Nyssa had been followed by guards from the day after the trip to Traken, unable to go anywhere without her destination being noted. Unable to seek out the sender of that note in her book. Who could it have been? Damon? Hedin?

She'd dismissed them quickly from her list. Hedin was a Councillor and could not let his loyalty to the Doctor overrule his loyalty to the High Council. And Damon could not approach the Presidential quarters, since he was only a technical engineer, without a purpose, such as meeting one of the Councillors. Social calls to their wives did not count. But then who was it?

But all of these questions had blurred in her mind, after the anger and the hurt that eclipsed it when, after approaching Commander Maxil as to why she was being followed, she had been told she was a suspect in the foiled plot. How, after everything, her husband could think her a traitor and a potential murderer, Nyssa could not see. But it was time she had it out with him.

* * *

A moment later she slipped into his office, closing the door quietly behind her. He was alone, his back to her as she crossed the floor, but she knew he had heard her come in. She summoned her courage, keeping her position by the door, before she spoke.

"Why am I a suspect in the Lord President's assassination?" she asked bluntly. The Castellan turned to face her, and she could see he was surprised she knew.

"I beg your pardon?" was the quiet reply.

"I know you suspect me in the Lord President's assassination, and I want to know what I have done to raise such suspicion," Nyssa said, keeping her tone level.

"Maxil," the word was a quiet expletive, before his gaze rose back to hers, piercingly sharp. "Nyssa, at this very moment every single Time Lord in the Citadel is under suspicion."

"But not every Time Lord is being followed around like a wild animal that could snap at any moment!" Nyssa exploded, letting her temper get the better of her. She paused and breathed deeply before she turned back to her husband. Now was not the time to let anger get the better of her. She walked to his desk, leaning on her fists on the front of it, so he couldn't look anywhere else but at her.

The Castellan looked up at his wife, resplendent in brown silk that matched her tumbling curls, her eyes alive with hurt and anger, sparks dancing in the topaz orbs.

"Why do you not trust me? What have I done to incite your suspicion?" she asked, calmer now. "I have never shown predilection to treachery, to you or to the High Council."

"Nyssa, you don't understand!" the Castellan settled back into his chair, looking up at his wife. "I cannot let my personal emotions rule my head. You, out of the entire population of the Citadel, have the most reason to want the High Council dead. Until we find evidence which either proves your innocence or your guilt, you have to remain under surveillance. I understand your frustration, but you must see my position,"

"I am innocent, Castellan!" she retorted. Her husband looked away from her, his face impassive. "This is because of my loyalty to the Doctor, isn't it? Because I didn't stand aside and let you simply execute him-"

"Nyssa!"

Nyssa turned away, feeling her emotions run away, tears springing to her eyes. She had hoped, with all that had passed between them, happiness and harmony might pervade their relationship, at least making the next five hundred years bearable. But now…

How could she trust and care for a man who did not give her the reciprocal trust? How could she convince him, once and for all? Because, despite all that had happened, she did care for and trust the man who had become her husband, against her better judgement. Tegan had sometimes used an old Earth saying, one Nyssa had found curious, but now she could understand. Curiosity killed the cat. She'd let herself feel and explore the strange emotions that welled up when she was in her husband's presence, and now it was coming back to hurt her.

* * *

An idea sprang to mind, as Nyssa paced wildly, feeling her husband's eyes on her. During their bonding their minds had been linked, was it impossible that he, at least as powerful as the Doctor or Borusa, could look into her mind and see that she was telling the truth?

The Castellan was astounded when Nyssa suddenly turned to him, and knelt before him. With one hand she pulled her long hair over her shoulder, baring her neck.

"I will prove to you that I am not a traitor. Look into my mind, see the truth there, husband," she told him earnestly, her large brown eyes gazing avidly into his. He looked down on her, stupefied. Had she truly just offered to do what he would never ask of her in a million years? On Gallifrey, allowing another Time Lord into one's mind was the ultimate sign of trust. Nothing could be hidden. True, occasions did occur when a mental link was unavoidable, such as during a bonding ceremony, but to do so on a whim…..

Except it was not on a whim. Nyssa was trying to prove her innocence and regain his trust, lost as she thought it was. In his hearts, the Castellan knew Nyssa was nothing to do with the plot to assassinate Borusa, but another part of him refused to listen and insisted all avenues had to be covered. Personal emotions could not get in the way of finding the truth. But now, at this sign of trust, the Castellan felt almost ashamed.

"Nyssa…."

"Do it!" she said, cutting him off abruptly. "See the truth,"

"Very well," he sighed, giving in, before he leaned forward and gently cupped the back of her nape in one hand. "Nyssa you don't have to do this,"

"But I do, husband. I do," she whispered, almost to herself, some unnameable emotion flashing in those shimmering eyes. Not knowing what to make of that comment, the Castellan finally capitulated.

"If you're resolved….then close your eyes, Nyssa. Relax and let your mind open to me. Don't shut me out,"

Nyssa couldn't quite make out if that last was a plea or a warning, but she did as she was bid. Her husband closed his own, and she felt his consciousness in her mind like a tangible presence, gentle yet firm. She struggled with the sense of invasion, fought to keep her instinctive barriers down.

_Relax Nyssa….you know I won't harm you…._

She felt his voice in her head, felt it like a soothing hand on her hair, as she let go, and let him in. She had nothing to hide.

* * *

The Castellan felt the release of her defences with a satisfied sigh. He quickly and efficiently searched her mind, not stopping to linger of any details or memories. He had only used his mental aptitude once or twice in service of his planet, and already he could feel the weariness setting in. His and hers.

She was tiring fast, her proud shoulders slumping, as he slowly withdrew his mind. He had seen enough, didn't need to see anymore, before the temptation to delve into his enigmatic wife's mind could overcome his control. Nyssa was breathing heavily, as her eyes snapped open, beads of sweat covering her forehead where she fought not to collapse. Her skin was waxen pale, and the Castellan instantly caught her up in his arms, settling her in his chair, his fingers instinctively feeling for her pulse. It was regular, if a little weak due to exhaustion, beneath his fingers. He stroked his wife's hair from her face, feeling as though he could gaze into her luminously beautiful face forever. Nyssa struggled to lift her lids, looking into his grey ones intently. He got the feeling she wished to say something, but felt too weak to do anything just yet. Leaving her for a moment, he went to a small cabinet beside his desk, and withdrew a flask of some sort of liquid, deep purple in colour. He poured a small measure into a glass and held it to Nyssa's mouth.

"Drink, Nyssa. It is a restorative," at Nyssa's spluttering cough, he added hastily, a small sign of amusement in his face, "Of sorts,"

The liquor tasted of sweet berries mixed with some sort of spice that seared Nyssa's throat as it slid down. She felt some vitality wash over her, the weariness lifting from her limbs, and she sat up slightly. It's slightly acrid taste still lingered on her tongue, burning the sensitive taste buds. She looked up at her husband's gentle touch on her cheek. Looking into his eyes, she saw regret burning in the sylvan orbs.

"I'm sorry I doubted you, Nyssa," he whispered, taking the glass from her fingers and setting it on the desk beside her. He tilted her chin up and kissed her lips tenderly, feeling that familiar longing take flight. She responded readily, one hand over the top of his on her face. The kiss felt like more of an apology than his words had done. When they drew apart, she grinned slightly, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

"I told you so," she muttered before drawing him back to her lips. One hand drifted up the line of her jaw to her hair, whilst the other fell to her waist, pulling her closer to him. Her arms twined around his neck, clinging to him before they drew apart again, both their chests rising and falling like bellows. The Castellan wrenched his gaze from the sight of his wife's kiss-swollen mouth, and began to rise.

"You need to rest, Nyssa, after that ordeal. Come," his tone clearly indicated he would brook no argument as he swung her into his arms. Nyssa suppressed her gasp at the sudden feeling weightlessness, a wave of dizziness threatening.

"What was in that restorative?" she asked. It felt like alcohol, from its effects, but surely the Time Lords didn't use such stuff? The mental image of drunken Time Lords almost made her laugh.

Nyssa's question distracted the Castellan from the soft weight of his wife in his arms, impinging on his senses like a lodestone. He shook himself; after what he had just put her through, now was not the time to think of such things.

"The restorative is made of a berry from the north of Gallifrey, where it thrives in the colder climes. The flowers of the plant only bloom once every three hundred years, when it seeds for a short season," he told her, his tone deep and harsh. Nyssa inwardly started at the gravelly tone, her eyes flying to his face. A small smile lit her lips. A moment later, he carried her into her bedchamber, and laid her down, settling her comfortably against the pillows. She gazed up at him, smiling softly, her eyes aglow, her long hair tumbling over her shoulders, covering the small display of skin at the top of her dress. He felt the rise of an illogical desire to brush the trailing ringlets away, ignoring it with difficulty. His eyes rose to hers, and he caught his breath at the temptation inherent in them.

"You need to rest," he said firmly, as if reminding both himself and her, as he went to leave her side.

* * *

Nyssa made a split second decision, after seeing the desire in his eyes, burning bright alongside the regret, feeling something unlock in her. Maybe it was curiosity, or the influence of that heady liquor, or something that had been brewing between them for a while, but Nyssa would tell herself later that in this case, curiosity would definitely never kill the cat. Indeed she later felt like the cat that had captured the prize, grinning felinely.

She stopped him with a hand clutching his, pulling him back to her side. With a sigh, he sat beside her.

"Rest, Nyssa. We can talk when you are recovered," he said half-heartedly, recognising the determined glint in her eyes, coupled with something he didn't recognise. He felt something slide across his palm, and jumped slightly, looking down. Her fingers traced the lines across his palm, exploring the valleys and ridges of his hand. That touch, however innocuous, threatened to set his blood afire. He reminded himself desperately of her exhaustion, fighting to break free. But the eight-hundred year old Time Lord was mesmerised, trapped by the touch of fire from a twenty one year old humanoid girl. But the being that raised shimmering brown orbs to his was no girl, but a woman, sensual wonder evident in her eyes.

"I'm not tired," she whispered, before her errant fingers travelled distractedly up his hand to his wrist, before they flew to the nape of his neck, pulling him to her for a kiss. He met her halfway, unable to fight the compulsion in his blood, pressing his lips desperately to hers, fighting to appease the need that rose, insidious and compelling.

Nyssa pulled him forwards onto the bed, relishing the cool weight of him atop her. Her hand slid into his hair, kissing him passionately, with all the need within her, rising to his call at the slightest sign of encouragement. And the desire that turned his eyes to molten silver was all the encouragement she could stand. She wound her other arm around his neck, keeping him against her, gasping into his mouth at the feel of his hand tracing the line of her waist. His lips broke from hers, nuzzling down the sides of her neck, dragging an instinctive cry from her lips as she arched. She felt him pause, his breath chilling against her skin, cool hands almost clenching around her waist, fighting for control. He raised his head, dazed, desire-filled eyes finding hers.

"Nyssa-" he began, disappointment filling her. He was going to draw back, whether out of some sort of concern for her or another reason, she didn't know. But desperate times called for desperate measures. And Nyssa definitely counted the yearning, entirely thoughtless state he could reduce her to as desperate.

The Castellan lost the train of his thought when he felt her innocently wandering hand on the neck of his robes, pulling them apart, revealing the toned musculature beneath. He caught his breath, looking down when he felt her fire-hot hand, like a brand on his skin, slip inside, tracing the skin before it splayed over the spot where his hearts beat wildly, his chest rising and falling under her hand. That last touch nearly cindered the last of his control, as he tore his gaze from her hand and returned it to her eyes.

"Nyssa, we-" he tried again, fighting for control over the primitive need he could feel like a prowling predator, behind his civilised façade. She cut him off with a kiss, surging up to bring her lips to his, her hand flexing on his skin. Taking the rest of his control with it.

Nyssa felt satisfaction when he appeared to capitulate, his arms closing like steel shackles around her body, tumbling her back on the bed, his hands now exploring her body as avidly as she had explored him. She brushed aside the sides of his robes, taking a strange, curious pleasure in the hard skin heating under her palm. She couldn't think, couldn't breathe for the need to have his lips on hers, his body pressing hers into the bed. Such a primitive, illogical need but it felt somehow satisfying that a controlled Time Lord could lose himself to the passion that had already overset her. Lying back, she let instinct and that illogical passion take over; sweeping her away into a universe she never knew existed.

* * *

Hours later, Nyssa stirred in her husband's arms, a very satisfied smile curving her lips feeling his cool breath against the nape of her neck, disturbing the ringlets his cheek was nestled on. Feeling the thunder of the double heartbeat against her back, his arms holding her possessively and yet supportively, she breathed out a contented smile. Apart from the odd ache in her muscles, she never felt so…languid. The events of the past few hours had been an exploration into a realm of which Nyssa had had no idea. And scientist that she was, the woman within her luxuriated in the bliss she had found, in the unlikeliest of places, cool skin even now surrounding her, holding her enthralled, forever.


	9. Leela

Coming of Age

* * *

Nyssa awoke slowly, feeling the absence of a cool body in the bed beside her. She blinked and lifted her head from the pillow. Where was her husband?

Swinging her legs out of bed, she winced slightly at the ache in her muscles, before crossing swiftly to her wardrobe. Something was wrong, she could feel it.

Memories of the night before floated across the surface of her mind, sending a warm frisson down her spine, as she slipped her tan gown over her head. For some strange reason, she felt as though she were donning armour. Closing her eyes, Nyssa used the empathic talent she'd had since birth, and which she utilised so rarely. All Trakenites possessed latent empathic and mental powers, but they were never tapped. The Doctor had been experimenting with hers, helping her to release them, ever since that incident with Concord and the Xeraphin.

Her husband was…strangely blank, no emotion whatsoever radiating from him. But why?

Ignoring the strange feeling of foreboding, Nyssa walked into her husband's quarters.

* * *

The Castellan felt her physical presence in the room with him like a blow to his senses, not malevolent but distracting. Entirely and utterly distracting, particularly after last night. The memories of it were still haunting him.

She softly paced across the room to him, stopping before his desk, waiting patiently for him to acknowledge her presence. He didn't. From now on, he had to draw back from her. When he had awoken with her held securely in his arms, such a primal possessiveness had welled up, but beside it was something else. Something far more powerful; a need and devotion to her, and her alone. But such…emotions were dangerous things, the very kind Time Lords were trained to repress. His duty had to come first. But how could he perform his duty if all he could think about was her?

* * *

Nyssa halted in front of his desk, her empathic power in full play. She detected cracks in his stony shields, feeling his inner turmoil as her own.

"What's troubling you?" she asked, after the silence had stretched on unbearably. Now she could feel a clearer emotion, one she didn't like. "If this is about last…"

"The…events of the night are of no concern to me, Nyssa. They will not occur again," the Castellan interrupted abruptly, looking up at her from his work. To his surprise, her brown eyes narrowed, her brow furrowed in concentration.

"What do you mean? I can feel a great deal of confusion from you," she asked, her eyes fixed on his stony visage. He frowned at her.

"You are mistaken. There is no confusion," the Castellan replied tersely. What did she mean, she could feel his confusion?

"Don't try to lie to me, husband. I never told you I was an empath, did I? Nyssa held his gaze, searching for the truth behind the fog of confusion in his soul. But suddenly his shields went up, and she was locked out, unable to enter.

"Thank you for telling me. But this cannot be, Nyssa. My duty is to Gallifrey, and nothing may impede it,"

"Why do you lock me out? Why do you deny all that has occurred between us?" Nyssa asked, a blackness swirling within her at his bleak words.

"The conversation is over, Nyssa. Such a deplorable weakness is unacceptable," he replied bluntly, turning away from her.

Nyssa felt a wave of combined fury and hurt at his words, her gaze still trained on his head.

"Weakness or not, deplorable or not, what is between us is not something you can choose to accept. It simply is," Nyssa murmured, her fists clenched at her side, her chin tilted proudly, but despite her outward appearance, within she was breaking in two.

The Castellan heard and knew the truth of her words. Their relationship was not something he could control. He had no control with her, and for a man who was always in such control; of himself, of the situation, of everything in his life, the lack was disconcerting. With such an illogical, irrelevant need he could be destroyed. He had to stop this now, even if it meant hurting her. Gallifrey demanded complete devotion from her Time Lords, there was no room for anything else. It could never be.

Nyssa saw his straight back, knew her words would never break through that shield of his. He would turn his back on her, emotionally and literally, and continue with his duty to Gallifrey. He was a Time Lord; he could not need, he could not love. She had given him her trust, and he would not reciprocate it; and now her heart lay in smouldering ashes at her feet. Feeling a single tear trickle down her cheek, she blinked and turned on her heel, leaving in silence. Her husband remained in his seat as a statue, his fist slowly clenching on the desk in the empty office.

* * *

A few minutes later, Nyssa left her rooms. She needed to think, needed to get away. She had repressed her own tears of despair, but this was one bereavement too many. Her mother, stepmother and her father.

Her entire planet; Adric, Tegan, the Doctor….and now this. But she was not mourning for the past, but for all that could have been but would never be. Not now; the control of a Time Lord was unbreakable.

It didn't help that the aftershocks of the night before still ran through her, sending warm tremors down her spine, as memories rose to torture her. She fought to shut them out, walking along in a daze. The corridors were empty, except for the Chancellery Guards, who watched her with indifferent eyes. She passed into a deserted corridor, and quite literally bumped into someone. Or bounced off, was maybe a more appropriate term.

Nyssa collided with a body like stone, muscled and strong, toned arms catching her up. She looked into a chiselled, handsome face framed with dark hair. The stranger was clothed in the uniform of the Guards, a ceremonial helmet on his flowing hair.

"I am sorry, sir. I didn't see you," she said breathlessly, standing straight before him.

"No need to apologise, my lady. I have been looking for you. But come we should not talk here, it is too dangerous."

The stranger's voice was reassuringly kind, deep and firm. With one hand gesturing her to go ahead of him, he led her down the corridor.

"You were looking for me? Why?" she asked, fighting down her alarm. Could this be the sender of the note in her book? "Who are you?"

"I will answer your questions later, my lady. But not in the open," the stranger replied quietly, as they took a left turn, striding into a part of the Citadel Nyssa had never been in.

"But at least tell me who you are!" Nyssa dug in her heels and refused to walk, yanking on his arm. They were still in a deserted area of the Citadel, and he turned back to her with an exasperated sigh.

"Very well, my lady. I am Commander Andred. Now come!" he said, gesturing her to continue walking. Fixing him with a glare, Nyssa complied. She had heard of Commander Andred; a brave and diligent Commander who had been instrumental in repelling some invasion a decade ago in the Citadel. It was expected either he or Maxil would take the Castellan's place, should he ever be promoted. She grimaced at the word, diligent. It was a word she was beginning to hate. The feelings of sorrow threatened to overwhelm her again, but she refused to break down as she followed the Commander.

* * *

They stopped outside a residential apartment, and she was ushered in unceremoniously. An electronic voice came from the darkened room.

"Greetings, Master! Greetings Mistress Nyssa!"

Nyssa looked down at her feet, and saw a strange, dog-like contraption come rolling towards her. It appeared to move on wheels concealed in its base, its ears two little radars that rotated constantly. 'K-9' was emblazoned on the side, and Nyssa stared at it as he moved forward. Andred turned the lights on, and shrugged his cloak off.

"Greetings, K-9. Inform Leela I have brought her," he said, already leading Nyssa into another room. Outside had clearly been an entrance hall, but the next room was a living area, spartan and functional, but hardly homely. Low-slung sofas dotted the room, gentle lights adding a soft patina to the beige walls. K-9 disappeared into another room, and Andred gestured for Nyssa to sit, before he too disappeared. A moment later Nyssa heard the door close once more, and realised Andred had left. She waited uneasily, wondering if she had walked into some kind of trap.

A woman walked into the room, clothed in a simple gown of a deep reddish-brown, her hair loose down her back. Her stride was purposeful and long, not as graceful as the Time Ladies, but hers was the taut readiness of a warrior Nyssa realised. Her face was lovely, but in a wild, hard, almost savage way, like some jungle flower captured in onyx. Her figure was as athletic and as toned as she expected it to be, no signs of excess flesh on her trim waist anywhere.

"You are Nyssa? Former companion of the Doctor?" the woman asked brusquely and only then did Nyssa notice a small knife belted at her waist. She met the woman's unrelenting stare, and nodded.

"I am. Why did you have me brought here? Did you send me the note in my book?" Nyssa asked. The woman held up her hand, tanned skin gleaming in the light.

"I will answer your questions, once another has joined us. But first, I am Leela. I too travelled with the Doctor in his fourth incarnation, until I met my husband, Andred," Leela explained, gesturing for Nyssa to sit. She sat beside her, settling into the soft cushions. "And this is K-9,"

"We've already met," Nyssa replied, her eyes on the incredible robot dog.

"My sweet little K-9," Leela said with a smile, one hand on the dog's metallic cheek. His tail wagged once.

"Affirmative, mistress," he piped up, before he disappeared from the room, trundling away.

"Where's he going?" Nyssa asked, watching him leave.

"He will ensure a damper field remains around this apartment. No one will be able to hear our conversations," Leela explained, but Nyssa could tell she didn't really understand the concept. Leela was not unintelligent, but she was no engineer. "Andred could not stay. He is a Commander, and the more he knows, the more his duty and his oath of fealty are compromised," Leela further explained. Nyssa nodded numbly. Duty seemed the most important thing on this cold planet. They lapsed into silence, waiting, for what Nyssa didn't know. Finally Nyssa turned to Leela, her eyes covertly searching the older woman's face. Leela smiled slightly.

"You have the eyes of a child; curious and as piercing as a knife. You remind me of the Doctor,"

Nyssa jumped at the softly spoken comment, and at the compliment within it.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare," Nyssa looked down, feeling chastened, but then she looked up defiantly. She was no child; and she would not act like a scolded adolescent just because she was curious. She met Leela's unrelenting eyes firmly. She nodded in approval.

"Who are you? Why was I brought here?" Nyssa asked, her tone strong and demanding. They may be waiting for someone, but she deserved to know at least that much. Leela smiled again.

"The Doctor chooses his companions well. Alright, I will answer your questions. As I have said, I am a former companion of the Doctor's, as is K-9. As to why you are here, it concerns the Doctor,"

"Did you slip that note into my book?" Nyssa asked.

"Yes. I managed to slip into your apartments when I accompanied Andred to a meeting of the Commanders-"

"Then the Doctor is alive?" Nyssa asked, barely able to believe, not daring to hope.

"I do not know for sure. It was designed to grab your attention. I am only sorry our meeting has been delayed this long. We do not have much time," Leela shook her head, her eyes straying to the door. Nyssa followed her gaze.

"What-?" she began, but was interrupted by the arrival of K-9 and Damon.

"Master Damon has arrived, Mistress," the robot dog intoned, before it trundled to a place beside Leela. Nyssa stood, clasping hands with Damon.

"It is good to see you, Damon!" she breathed, glad to see her friend. Damon returned her smile.

"And you, Nyssa. We have much to discuss,"

And with that they all sat.

"Now Damon, tell Nyssa what you have learnt," Leela commanded him, one hand on K-9's metal head. Damon leaned forward earnestly, worry showing in his youthful face.

"Firstly, we are running out of time. I have been barred from Time Control, with Maxil running an unofficial investigation into the Doctor's execution. The Otherstide celebration will slow him down but not for long," Damon explained.

"Otherstide?" Nyssa asked, frowning.

"A winter festival on Gallifrey. It involves ritual recitations by artisans, and a celebration throughout the Citadel," Leela explained, before she turned to Damon, "Castellan Eldred will need to postpone any investigation until Otherstide is over. But if he is suspicious, then it will prove difficult and dangerous to get back into Time Control to investigate the circuits-"

"Wait a moment. What do you mean by an investigation? And who is this Castellan Eldred? Is there more than one Castellan then?" Nyssa asked confused. She definitely didn't like the feeling. Leela looked at her askance.

"Castellan Eldred is the present Castellan. Your husband," she told Nyssa impatiently. Nyssa looked at her, nonplussed.

"We have forgotten Nyssa's position, Leela. She has not been aware of the events which have led us here," Damon reminded her gently, before he turned to Nyssa. "Nyssa, some weeks after the Doctor's execution, I was running a routine diagnostic when I noticed a power blip in the energy levels in that timeframe. It was tiny, but when I investigated further, I discovered that something had interfered with the termination circuits-"

"So the Doctor may not have died?" Nyssa asked, a hopeful light in her eye. Damon shook his head.

"I do not know. It is possible, but before I could investigate further, I was interrupted by Maxil. Now I can't get in or out of Time Control, by orders of the Castellan."

Nyssa digested this new information, sitting back against the sofa. How she could have imagined her husband did not possess a name outside of his office, she didn't know. It was a silly thing to think, in hindsight, although she had only ever heard him called 'Castellan', and he had made no attempt to tell her otherwise. But then the revelation of the termination circuits intruded, and she felt the first few stirrings of hope in her soul.

* * *

Hearing a bell chime somewhere in the Citadel, she stood abruptly.

"I need to go. If I do not return soon, my absence may go marked," she explained, already heading for the door. Leela stood to accompany her.

"Yes, you need to go. Be careful, and tell no one of this. We will, in the meantime, attempt to learn more," she said, a stern look in her eye. Nyssa nodded.

"And I? What do you wish me to do?"

"Nothing. As Castellan Eldred's wife, you cannot get involved actively, lest he should discover you. I doubt we can communicate freely either; Damon is but an engineer and I a Commander's wife. I will find a way to get any news to you, Nyssa."

Nyssa nodded, disappointed not to be helping, but left quickly, a hope in her heart that had not been there before.


	10. Otherstide

Coming of Age

* * *

Nyssa walked back to her quarters, thinking hard about all that Leela and Damon had told her. All around her Time Lords rushed about, preparing for the Otherstide celebrations. Borusa had refused to let the assassination attempt get in the way of the festival, ordering that it go ahead as normal.

Nyssa didn't know what the celebrations were about, but she guessed they were similar to the winter celebrations on her own planet. Leela had told her that they would comprise of a ceremonial recital by artisans, a dinner for the elite of Gallifrey, and a gathering for the less privileged in the Citadel. Gallifreyans usually spent time with their chapters, or families; as some, like Leela and Andred, were bonded. As the wife of the Castellan, she would be attending with him. The thought of her first formal function as Lady Nyssa seemed somewhat daunting. Maybe she would go to Thalia for some lessons on etiquette. The celebration was a matter of weeks away, and she knew she had a lot to learn.

With a surprised jolt, she realised she had completely forgotten about the revelation of the rigged termination circuit. The celebrations would mean that the unofficial investigation her husband was conducting would be delayed due to the security arrangements he would have to oversee. But even then, Damon would not be able to get to Time Control to investigate the termination circuits himself. Nyssa sighed; she didn't know what to do, and she felt powerless.

Within her a dilemma was waging war. She knew she should tell her husband of Damon's and Leela's suspicions but, then again her loyalty to them and the Doctor stopped her, rendered her mute. What should she do? How could she look her husband in the face, when he had placed his trust in her and knowingly lie? She was torn in two with no sign of relief. Did she owe him any loyalty after he had chosen to draw back from their evolving relationship, taking Nyssa's happiness with it?

Feeling the start of a headache, Nyssa tried to tuck her thoughts away, as she slipped into her rooms.

* * *

It seemed like mere hours later that the eve of Otherstide came. Nyssa had received no further communication from either Damon or Leela. They had all agreed it was too risky, should the Castellan intercept it. And there was the issue that Nyssa could not have told them anyway. She could not lie to her husband.

He had retreated to his usual coldly distant self, acknowledging her presence but the warmth had gone. The slightly instantaneous Time Lord that had taken her to Traken and given in to the passion between them had been repressed by the dutiful, dedicated Castellan who denied everything that could have been. Time Lords did not feel love or desire, did not allow their hearts to rule their heads. Theirs was a life of rationality and responsibility.

Nyssa had always been a logical girl, utilising the control taught to her by the finest minds on Traken. She was a Consul's daughter, trained and groomed to take his place, to put her people before herself. But the very thought of her husband brought forth an illogical need and a sorrow so deep, one she had not felt since she had watched the entropy field destroy her home, that she feared it would drown her. She could only hide behind the calm, serene mask she had worn for so long. Hiding herself away from the world, even from he who now knew her best.

For the past few days, she had been experiencing faintness and nausea in the mornings, putting her off her food pills, but it had calmed down lately. She was still pale and wan, unable to sleep for the nightmares and thoughts that whirled around her brain, denying her surcease. All interest in her studies and her experiments had long since died; consumed by the emotional turmoil Nyssa experienced nightly. She was just managing to make it through each day.

Nyssa allowed none of this to puncture her façade that night, nor in the morning when she arose from her bed. Tonight was the celebration of Otherstide, and Nyssa could only hope she would remember all the lessons on etiquette and Gallifreyan decorum Thalia had spent the last week driving into her skull. There were so many tiny nuances of language, both in body and verbally, it was enough to make anyone's head spin.

Standing in the middle of her rooms, Nyssa could hear her husband moving about his office, attended by Maxil and the other Commanders, as they finalised the security arrangements for the evening festivities. Sighing heavily, she wandered outside to her garden, letting the wintry sunlight warm her cold skin. She felt as if she were a flame being quenched by the ice of Gallifrey. What would she be in a few hundred years time? Would she become an ice maiden like the rest of the Ladies of Gallifrey?

She kneaded her forehead with her fingertips, feeling a headache beginning behind her temples. Life had been so much simpler with the Doctor. He was her teacher, she his student. Their relationship was uncomplicated, pure and simple. Tegan had been a friend and an almost mother-like figure to her, and she had certainly rubbed off on Nyssa. Adric…Adric had been her main friend, the one she could connect to easiest. Tegan had always been so absorbed in going home; the Doctor too alien and distant to become too familiar to. Adric had been like her, a lost child, far from home.

But she was not a child anymore. She was not even Nyssa of Traken. She was Lady Nyssa of Gallifrey, and slowly her new home was turning her to stone. She realised now, despite all her logical tendencies, she needed the love and care of a person in her life, to breathe, to exist. The Castellan had given her that for so short a time, and now she was dying for lack of it. Nyssa clasped her arms, feeling a chill spreading over her skin. Maybe it was time to rebel; to break free of the ice spreading through her veins.

_Nyssa…._

Nyssa felt a sudden weakness in her legs, a hot flush spreading over her skin, as the ground rushed up to meet her and the world went black.

* * *

She came to slumped against the wall, feeling a pounding in her head. She raised her hand shakily, brushing the hair away from her eyes, when an alarmed shout echoed across the garden.

"Nyssa!"

"My lady!"

Nyssa looked up, recognising the two figures bearing down on her. Commander Andred, Leela's husband, and Chancellor Thalia hurried across the lawn towards her, concern writ large on their faces, Thalia's scarlet skirts swishing furiously. They reached her and Thalia peered concernedly into her eyes, noting the feverish cast of her skin. Andred waited beside the two women, uneasy and restless.

"Nyssa, did you hit your head?" Thalia asked, putting her hand on the younger woman's skin. She was clammy, but burning hot, even more than usual to Thalia's Gallifreyan skin.

"No, I did not. Just a momentary weakness," Nyssa moved away from Thalia's hand, trying to stand, but her legs were too weak.

"You should have gone to the medtechs if you felt ill," Thalia scolded gently. "Andred."

"Chancellor," Andred moved forward, his white cloak swishing in the silent garden.

"Where is the Castellan? He should be told of this,"

"Please, don't-" Nyssa protested weakly.

"I believe he is with the Lord President, my lady. He and Commander Maxil are going over last-minute security details before Otherstide," Andred overrode Nyssa's protest, looking as concerned for Nyssa as Thalia was.

"Then get him here immediately!" Thalia barked, but Nyssa spoke up, her voice stronger.

"No. There is no need for the Castellan to know, he has enough on his mind without adding this to his burden," Nyssa said, her tone brooking no disobedience.

"Nyssa, we cannot-" Thalia was interrupted by Nyssa's determined retort.

"I will be perfectly well in a little while. I just need to rest and prepare for Otherstide," she asserted forcefully. "I have not been sleeping well for a time, that is all that is wrong with me,"

"Hmmm," Thalia pursed her lips, watching Nyssa thoughtfully. She had noticed a dimming of the glow that had shone in the young Trakenite's aura, and wondered what was contributing to it. Could the Castellan have done something? "You must inform your husband, Nyssa. He will want to know,"

"And I will tell him. Later," Nyssa lied, trying to rise again. Andred caught her arm, having watched the exchange between the two noblewomen silently, and swung her into his arms. Nyssa's instinctive stiffness dissolved, when the full weakness of her body impinged on her mind, and she relaxed against his strong frame. The feeling inevitably brought back memories of that night the Castellan had carried her to her chamber, and they had let their hearts rule their heads, just once. Her entire being yearned for such a time again, but her head knew it would never happen. Nothing could, or would overcome her husband's control. Despite whatever had been growing between them, he had chosen to turn his back on it, determined to remain cold and aloof, condemning her to a life of despair. All this passed through Nyssa's mind, as Andred laid her on her bed, Thalia following behind. She dismissed Andred with a wave of her hand, and sat down beside Nyssa, taking her hand.

* * *

"Nyssa, you must tell the Castellan. Now rest, and sleep, my dear," she said gently. Nyssa shook her head, the shadows beneath her eyes standing out in the gentle lighting.

"I cannot do so anymore."

At the Trakenite's sad whisper, full of unconscious yearnings, Thalia sighed.

"I can help you do so. Close your eyes, and relax," Thalia gently placed her hands on the sides of Nyssa's face, as Nyssa relaxed back against the pillows. In that moment, sweet oblivion was all she craved. A moment later, her breathing relaxed, and she slipped into slumber. Thalia removed her hands and sighed. She had seen much in Nyssa's mind unwittingly, had seen all that had transpired between her and the Castellan. She did not understand such emotions herself, since Time Ladies tended to be asexual due to the loss of their reproductive abilities, but she sensed Nyssa needed her husband. Her feelings for him went deeper than she suspected even Nyssa knew. And the loss of him was killing her, along with whatever physical weakness was sapping her strength. It was a mystery.

* * *

Sighing heavily, Thalia left the sleeping Nyssa, and walked purposefully into the Castellan's office. He had, indeed, just finished his meeting with Maxil and Borusa, and he looked up as the senior Time Lady entered his domain.

"Thalia," he inclined his head, not looking up from his work. Thalia, used to such arrogance from him, merely waited patiently. Eventually he did look up at her, one eyebrow raised. "What do you want?"

Thalia hesitated for a split second. She knew Nyssa would not tell her husband of the incident in the garden, but he needed to know. Maybe it would jolt him out of this nonsense, and back to sanity. She had seen from Nyssa's mind the intensity of his need for her, mystery that it was, and she doubted he would too pleased that she had concealed her weakness from him.

"It concerns your wife, Castellan," she said finally, raising her own eyebrow disapprovingly. The Castellan's arrogance had no effect on her.

"Oh? She is well, I take it?" the Castellan's inquiry was cool and casual, but Thalia sensed something else lurking behind the impenetrable steel of his eyes.

"No."

"What is wrong with her?" he asked, sitting up a little straighter, the movement betraying his concern, thawing slightly. Thalia did not indicate she saw the change, but she noted it with approval. So she told him.

* * *

Nyssa was drifting in peaceful darkness, her mind untroubled by the usual turmoil, when she heard another calling her name. Was it the Doctor?

But no, she knew that voice, and couldn't disguise the leap of her heart at the sound.

The Castellan looked down on his sleeping wife, feeling an inner battle within him. Some part of him was uncharacteristically panicked by the thought Nyssa was ill, and that she had knowingly concealed it from him, but had he not resigned any right to care for her, when he withdrew from their relationship?

She looked a little less pale than Thalia had described, the mahogany ringlets framing her angelic face, a slight blush of colour in her cheek. But the shadows that stood out from beneath her eyes tugged at his hearts, impossible to miss. He called her psychically. He needed to talk to her, reassure himself she was well. She stirred, her eyes opening slowly, fighting to focus as they shook off the haze of sleep.

"Castellan? What is it?" she asked, trying to rise slightly but finding she was still too tired to do more than shift slightly on the pillows. Her heart sank when she looked up at her husband, his face stony and implacable, unreadable except for his eyes. And they burned with something Nyssa knew she shouldn't be seeing.

"Why didn't you tell me you were ill?" he asked quietly, his voice harsh but controlled. Nyssa longed to have the strength to shake him, to break that infuriating control.

"There was no need. It is nothing," she replied, dignified and quietly refusing to be intimidated.

"I had a right to know," he retorted, already turning away before he did something stupid. "Whether you deem there is no need or not,"

Nyssa watched his retreat, and felt anger and resentment rise within her. She turned onto her side, turning her back to him, staring at the opposite wall. "Why should you care?" she whispered, a single tear trailing down her cheek, as she closed her eyes.

* * *

The Castellan heard her whispered question, felt it burn through to his hearts. He paused at the door of her bedchamber, looking back momentarily, before he sighed and left, closing the door softly behind him.

He did care, whether he liked it or not.

* * *

Hours later Nyssa rose from her bed, feeling strengthened, her weariness gone. Now was not the time for pathos, but a time for celebration. And she had her part to play. She went to her wardrobe, slipping out of her tan day dress, and concentrated.

Her encounter with her husband had left her feeling rebellious and angry, wanting to step outside the boundaries of Gallifreyan custom. She was not Gallifreyan, and she would not dance to his tune any longer. So she mentally sketched a gown of bright red, moulded to her figure like water, draping her body in silken splendour. The sleeves hugged her arms and shoulders, ever so slightly revealing the upper swell of her shoulders, the neckline brushing the top of her sternum. Instead of her usual high necked gowns, it dipped down in the back, just below the tops of her shoulder blades.

Slipping it over her head, she smiled for the first time in days it seemed, before deciding what to do with her hair. Brushing it meditatively, she grinned mischievously, and swept it up off her face and neck, pinning into a smooth style, except for one long, loose shining ringlet that trailed down her neck, hiding the very nape until she moved her head, and it would slide around to her neck, trailing over the line of her shoulder and onto her breast. Slipping into soft slippers of the same hue as the gown, she twirled it, satisfied with its gentle sparkle. Deciding she needed no decoration, she left the wardrobe, knowing her husband would brook no delay. She stopped, arrested, by the sight of a small box on the table beside her bed. She sat down and opened it curiously, gasping slightly. Inside, nestled on some soft, satiny cover was a necklace of small, matched red stones like rubies, but she doubted they were the same as the Earth stones. They shimmered like no diamond ever could, yet they were not overly ostentatious or showy. She could wear it anywhere. But who-?

Why would her husband give her a gift of such worth when he had decided to remain aloof from her? Unless it was customary to give gifts on Otherstide, as it was on other winter festivals on other planets?

Shrugging her shoulders, she slipped it over her head, feeling the cold metal settle against her warm skin, remembering with a shiver the touch of her husband's icy fingers across her skin, warming to her own temperature. She stroked the stones for a moment, looking into the distance meditatively, before a small chime sounded. It sounded as if her husband was growing impatient; she thought with a smirk, as she rose and glided into his quarters.

* * *

The Castellan was seated at his desk, in shadow, when Nyssa glided into his office. He looked up, and was grateful for the shadows that disguised the hunger he knew must be showing in his eyes as he stared at his beautiful wife. The gown she wore floated around her like a waterfall, accentuating the youthful lines of her body, her long hair entirely pinned except for one distracting ringlet, which he noticed covered the nape of her neck. The gown, so unlike her, was distracting enough. The stones of the necklace he had given her glimmered, reflecting the patina of her hair, mixed rich browns and dark reds, enhanced the topaz softness of her eyes. In that moment, he merely wanted.

Nyssa could feel his regard, and she inwardly smiled, waiting for some remark. The tense silence was only interrupted when he stood abruptly and came out from behind his desk. And it was her turn to catch her breath. His attire was reminiscent of the night he had taken her to Traken, except instead of plain black; he wore a long-sleeved, military-cut tunic of deep brown, trimmed in gold. Instead of boots, he wore shoes of the type she had seen on Earth, gleaming from beneath the fabric of his trousers. It was distinctly similar to the attire of the Chancellery Guard, but lacking helmet, cloak, weaponry or ceremonial armour. His head was uncovered, burnished waves of gold falling against his temples. Feeling a slight blush warm her skin, she drew herself up and hid behind a haughty façade. He stopped before her, the proud, uncommunicative orbs of her eyes testing his control, noting the prideful tilt of her chin.

"You are recovered?" he asked, smoothly placing her hand on his arm. Nyssa's eyes flashed.

"I am. Like I said, it was nothing," she murmured, already turning away. The light caught the facets of the necklace, making them shimmer as with an inner fire. "Thank you for the gift, Castellan. It was not necessary,"

The Castellan inclined his head at the comment. It had, indeed, not been necessary but some irrational part of him argued that it had been, if only to reassure himself and her, that she still was his to care for. For the first time in eight hundred years, something else mattered in his life apart from his work.

"Come. We must not be late," the Castellan's arm guiding her, they left the room.

* * *

The main hall of the Panopticon had been transformed from its dull, cold magnificence to a warmly lit palace, silken drapes in the different chapter colours hanging on the walls. Nyssa recognised Arcalian green and Prydonian red amongst the others. Clearly there were more chapters than she had realised. As she descended the steps with her husband, she noticed every male was dressed the same, in the military-cut tunic, mostly in their chapter colours. A few of the most senior Time Lords wore their long trailing robes, but they were in the minority. She recognised the distinctive white and gold of Borusa's robes in the crowd. The Time Ladies wore gowns like Nyssa; except the skirts were wider and high collars hid the skin of their necks. She resolutely straightened her spine, determined not to feel intimidated as the Castellan drew her into the crowd.

Nyssa was glad of the rock-like arm holding her steady and alert. Her weariness had returned, her legs feeling weakened. It felt like Borusa had droned on and on for hours, after the recitation in a musical, rolling language Nyssa couldn't understand. She guessed it was Gallifreyan.

Borusa's voice echoed in Nyssa's head, words stringing together in an incoherent mess, as she fought to stay conscious. She would not embarrass herself or her husband in this crowd of the elite. After the speech was over, she knew she would be expected to mingle and mix alongside her husband. She had to remain alert.

But then Borusa's words penetrated the fog of numbness in Nyssa's mind.

"And finally we all, at this time of celebration and new beginning, must remember those we have lost. The passing of a Time Lord is a grave and rare event, not the less so for the sorrow and loss left behind. The Doctor was a personal friend of mine, and of many of you here present. For all his deviant and renegade ways, he was a courageous and a wise man, respected by all. He gave his life to Gallifrey, and we will remember him with honour," Borusa finished solemnly, his gaze touching the faces of them all. Nyssa felt transfixed, turned to stone. How dare they mention the Doctor like he had just died peacefully of old age? The hypocrites! They had taken the Doctor's life, without pursing the course of justice, and now they were mourning his loss?

The Castellan mentally flinched at the Lord President's words, feeling Nyssa's hand tighten on his arm. He knew full well her thoughts on the Doctor's death. This did not bode well.

"We will remember," the entire group murmured, before the President left his place, and the hall filled with the buzz of conversation, as the Time Lords and Ladies dispersed to discuss and to converse. Nyssa glanced around at the serene, complacent faces around her, feeling her numbness return, alongside a deep anger. It took all of her training to keep herself upright and controlled, to force herself to take one step after another, as she walked beside her husband, greeting various personages.

Cardinal Zorac loomed out of the brightly coloured swirl of people, clothed in robes of Patrexean heliotrope, bowing slightly before them.

"Cardinal," Nyssa inclined her head. A second later she wished she hadn't, as the movement brought on a wave of dizziness. What was happening to her?

"Zorac. Otherstide greetings," the Castellan gently placed his hand over Nyssa's on his sleeve, and despite her anger and feelings of resentment towards him at that moment, she clung to the contact, feeling some strength wash over her.

"And to you, Castellan. Otherstide greetings, my lady," Zorac smiled benevolently at her, ingenuous and unthreatening, but Nyssa inwardly bristled. He had stood there and let the Doctor die, had done nothing, and he expected her to be polite? As if divining her thoughts, the Castellan gave her a warning squeeze of the fingers, his grey gaze fixed on her face. She shot him a look, before smiling and turning back to Zorac.

"Otherstide greetings, Cardinal. All is well, I take it?" she asked graciously, letting out a sigh of relief when he responded in the affirmative and began to rattle on without any further prompting from her. At last he departed, and she saw Thalia heading towards them, a smile on her lips, but a troubled look in her eyes. She, at least seemed conscious of the anger Nyssa felt simmering in her blood.

"Nyssa, Otherstide greetings. You are recovered from your illness this morning?" she asked solicitously, after she had greeted the Castellan. He watched the interaction between the two of them closely, wondering if Thalia knew more of what was going on in his wife's head than he did.

"I am, Thalia, thank you. Indeed I have a question to ask of you, concerning the programming of the integratial synapses….." Nyssa kept Thalia talking, sensing the concern behind her eyes, not wishing to discuss it in front of anyone. Indeed, she didn't want to discuss it at all. Hearing the Doctor so remembered by the very people who killed him made her blood boil, her temper unleashed. It would take some time for it settle again.

* * *

The Castellan left them at that point, to talk to Borusa, and she felt his departure with a relieved sigh. She couldn't deal with him at that moment. When Thalia left her, summoned away, she wandered through the crowd, talking and smiling with any who accosted her, but inside she just felt dead. Then a familiar face, framed by straight brown hair loomed up in front of her, and she stopped to greet Leela.

"Otherstide greetings, my lady," Leela formally inclined her head, deferring to Nyssa's higher rank, a convivial smile on her lips. Nyssa returned it, glad to have found someone who would have felt the hypocrisy of Borusa's speech as keenly as she did.

"And to you, Lady Leela. Andred is well, I take it?" she asked. Leela was alone, gowned in a sedate beige gown, with no collar like Nyssa's, but her long hair let loose, hiding the skin of her neck. She smiled, in a strained way, her eyes trying to communicate something Nyssa couldn't decipher.

"He is very well, my lady. He is on duty tonight, with the other Commanders. I hope you are recovered from your illness?" Leela asked.

"Does the entire Citadel know of my illness?" Nyssa sighed wearily, smiling self-deprecatingly.

"No. Andred told me of your weakness. I hope you return to health soon, my lady," Leela inclined her head in a goodbye, moving past Nyssa cordially. As she passed, she whispered to her in a low, furiously quick tone. "I must speak with you, urgently. Come to my quarters tomorrow,"

Nyssa kept her face blank and unemotional as she moved on.

Another Time Lord appeared in her way, inclining his head formally.

"Otherstide greetings, Lady Nyssa," he intoned, his voice strangely hoarse.

"And to you. May I ask your name, since you know mine?" she asked, her eyes roaming his face and frame interestedly. He was handsome enough, with shorn black hair, a strong face and keenly intelligent green eyes. From his attire, purple and black, she guessed he was from a chapter she did not know.

"Oh but everyone has heard of you, my lady," he replied, not answering her question, "the mysterious and beautiful Lady Nyssa, the last remaining Trakenite in existence, and the ill-fated Doctor's erstwhile companion."

His smile, when it appeared, was unsettling, making Nyssa stiffen. His tone was distinctly mocking.

"Your name, my lord?" she asked again, fighting to remain calm.

"Rigan, my lady. Are you enjoying Otherstide?" he asked, surveying her keenly. Nyssa felt like a mouse when cornered by the cat, playing with its prey before it pounced.

"Yes, I am."

"Gatherings like Otherstide do provide such excellent chances for observing sociological behaviours. It is fascinating to observe,"

"You are a sociologist, my lord?" Nyssa asked politely.

"It is my field of expertise," Rigan said, without any trace of self-conceit, "I must say, I find it amazing to witness your…flexibility shall we say?" he continued, the corners of his lips curling. Nyssa tilted her chin haughtily.

"And what do you mean by that, Lord Rigan?" she asked, every bit as imperious and proud as Thalia or any other Time Lady.

"The High Council sentenced your friend and guardian to death most unjustly, and yet here you are, so very comfortably and complacently, oh what is it you humanoids say? Sleeping with the enemy?" he grinned at that last. Nyssa felt anger pour through her, and her jaw firmed. Were it not for the immense amount of Gallifreyan protocol drilled into her skull by Thalia, she might have slapped him.

"You managed to switch sides ever so quickly and painlessly," Rigan continued, driving in his spike a little further. Nyssa regarded him frostily.

"I do not know the purpose of your interrogation, my lord, but I can tell you it is most unwelcome. Good evening," Nyssa turned away dismissively, aiming to escape to some less disagreeable company. A hand of steel clutched her elbow, stopping her escape. Outraged, Nyssa turned back to look into eyes that burned with some indescribable menace.

"Perhaps Lady Nyssa, you would do well to remember your flexible loyalties in the future. You and I may have much in common, regarding the High Council,"

"Maybe. Maybe not," Nyssa murmured, "Now unhand me at once!"

Rigan released her elbow and she marched away, feeling shaken and threatened.

* * *

Across the room, the Castellan was speaking with the Lord President. They watched as Nyssa tore away from Rigan, haughtily dismissing him. The Castellan felt alarm when Rigan snatched her back. Even from his position, he could see the overt threat in the Time Lord's demeanour. He could also see the fear and the anger disguised by the proud set of Nyssa's face.

"Has there been much activity from the Chronossian chapter recently?" Thalia joined them, her eyes trained on the dark presence that looked after Nyssa as she walked away.

"None. They have been quiet of late," Borusa replied gravely.

"Could this be some new ploy of theirs? In approaching Nyssa, they approach the one person within the Citadel that could effectively destroy us," Hedin, resplendent in Prydonian orange, piped up.

"She has reason to do so. The Doctor's execution still haunts her," the Castellan replied, frowning slightly. He did not believe it, but it was a possibility he would have to face.

"Don't be ridiculous, Castellan. She is a logical, level-headed young woman. She knows and understands the reasons behind our act," Borusa retorted derisively.

"But does she accept them?" Hedin wondered aloud. The Castellan looked at the old Time Lord and pondered his words.

"Castellan?" Thalia drew him out of his reverie, her shrewd eyes fixed on his face. "Do you think she is a threat?"

* * *

The Castellan thought, thought about Nyssa's rationality, the gentleness and the devotion he knew she was capable of. She was a giving, loving person, that was all there was to it. She put others before herself, and didn't let her personal emotions affect her decisions. From all he had learned of her, he knew that most of all. She'd had ample opportunity to take her revenge on the Master, and yet she never had. She could have betrayed them at any time, and she never had. She had never betrayed him, quite the opposite in fact. His eyes fixed on his wife's mahogany head.

"No, she will not betray us," he said eventually. Nyssa slipped out of a side door from the hall, and he went to follow her, noticing the slight tremor of her shoulders. Something was wrong, and he could no longer fight the concern that rose up in him.

The group had begun to disperse, but Borusa caught the Castellan's arm as he made to move away.

"Castellan, I have some words of advice for you, if you will hear them,"

"Lord President," the Castellan's eyes remained fixed on the side door Nyssa had just disappeared through.

"Do not fight the inevitable. Very few things are sure in the Web of Time, but some things are," Borusa told him gravely, yet there was a kindly twinkle in his eye. The Castellan searched his face inscrutably, before Borusa released him. He disappeared into the crowd a second later.

* * *

Nyssa slipped through a door, and out onto a large terraced balcony, overlooking the Citadel. Everything Rigan had said passed through her mind.

She truly was a traitor. Despite her feeble effort to the contrary, she had let the Doctor down. She had failed him. And now she was living comfortably, sleeping with the enemy. Literally.

She winced at the memory. Everything about the evening had dragged her spirits down, her strength with it.

Coldness filled her, numbness spreading through her veins. She stared out at the Citadel of the Time Lords, and felt its ice infect her soul. She was becoming like this place; cold and dead.

* * *

A wave of that now familiar weakness, accompanied by dizziness, washed over her and her knees collapsed. She fell, her body twisting as she did so. Expecting to feel the cold impact of marble, she was surprised by the strong arms that caught her effortlessly, supporting her against a hard-as-steel chest. Her nose was buried in brown fabric trimmed with gold, and she looked up into her husband's eyes. Her breath caught, and she hated herself for it. As soon as she could support herself, she pushed him away, standing tall before him.

"Nyssa, are you alright?" he asked, pulling her back to him, one cool hand on her cheek. Unused to that contact she flinched away. "What did Rigan say to you?"

"Nothing. Nothing that wasn't the truth," she replied frostily, looking away.

"What does that mean?"

"It means how could you? How could any of you stand in there, a-and act like the Doctor died in some heroic sacrifice, instead of you murdering him!" she exploded angrily, facing him abruptly, her face alive with the anger and the grief she'd repressed for so long, vibrantly aglow.

"Nyssa, it had to be done. It was a choice between him and billions of others, you know this!"

"I know nothing. All I know is that you could have followed the course of right. The Doctor told you of a possibility that there was a traitor on Gallifrey, and you were too pig-headed to even pursue it!

"Nyssa…." her husband's voice radiated a warning, one Nyssa was too angry to take heed of. The rage flooding her body stemmed from long months on this timeless planet, of loss and need, repression and sacrifice.

""You are no better than that creature that tried to take the Doctor's body!"

"Nyssa!" this time the anger and warning in her husband's voice penetrated, and she saw that, for the first time, she had shaken his unshakeable control. And what she saw both frightened and intrigued her, like the unassailable mountain calling to the untameable sea. Beneath that cold, stony façade was a core of fire.

She turned her back on him and began to walk away, trying to leash the anger she felt, battling against an urge to keep it alive.

"Where are you going?"

"Away from you!" she spat over her shoulder vehemently, but he blocked the only exit from the balcony area, and so the only place she could go was the other end, where she leaned on the wall, her shoulders shaking. Her anger had turned to grief and regret. She had failed the Doctor so many times. She stared blindly out over the Citadel.

The Castellan watched Nyssa walk to the other side of the balcony, the moonlight glinting off her shining hair, that single ringlet flicked over her shoulder, exposing the nape of her neck. On Gallifrey, the nape of the neck was one of three areas where a mental link could be established. The other was in the joining of hands and on the sides of the face, but the nape of the neck was different. In earlier, more innocent times, such an area was restricted to the bond between husband and wife, as well as being an erogenous zone for Gallifreyans. As it was for humanoids, he remembered absentmindedly. The sight tested his already frayed control. Drawing in a deep breath through his nose, he stepped forward, noticing the shaking of her shoulders, the suppressed sobs coming from her chest.

"Nyssa?"

At the gentle query behind her, Nyssa turned from the view of Gallifrey, bathed in silver moonlight like a glistening pearl, and faced her husband. She shone like a ruby in the night, the opaline skin of her neck tantalisingly revealed when the single trailing ringlet of burnished mahogany hair moved as she turned her head. Diamond tears sparkled in the very corners of her eyes, tears ruthlessly held back, as she held her husband's gaze. Her anger converted to pain, she turned away, unable to hold his gaze, feeling the bulwarks of her control buckle under the pressure.

"You know sometimes, I wish I had taken that second option. When Borusa offered me a choice between you and losing all my memories. To forget and just stop being me. To forget…everything," she sighed sadly, shaking her head. She wanted to forget the Doctor, and Tegan and Adric. She wanted to forget the Master and Traken, and Time Lords and Gallifrey. But most of all, she wanted to lose the hopeless yearning that filled her soul with her husband so close. She just wanted to forget, in his arms, but that would never happen again. She could never forget.

* * *

The Castellan stared at the back of his wife, feeling that strange desire well up in him again. It was more than desire for physical intimacy now; it was a…devotion to her. He cared for her, needed to know she was safe, that she was well and happy, that she was still his. The sensation was as unnerving now as it had been when he'd awoken with her in his arms, almost a month ago. Borusa's advice echoed in his mind: _Don't fight the inevitable_. And it seemed he couldn't any longer.

* * *

Nyssa's breathing hitched when she felt cool, hard lips gently brush across the exposed nape of her neck, as hands encircled her waist, drawing her back against him. A second later, her spine dissolved and she relaxed into his embrace, arching her neck back as his lips traced the curve of her neck, remembered pleasure sweeping over her skin. He turned her around, and she looked up at him, her tears falling freely, as their lips met. He gathered her closer for his kiss, and she went readily, twining her arms around his neck, as his hands slid into her hair, disturbing the sleek hairstyle. Passion, his and hers, burst onto her senses before she drew back to breathe, panting heavily. It felt like a great weight had lifted from her lungs, allowing her to breathe freely. She looked into her husband's eyes, shimmering silver.

"But…why?" she asked, her gaze darting down to his lips before they returned to his eyes. "You said-"

"I know what I said. And I was a fool," he murmured in a hoarse growl, feeling the reins of his control slip through his fingers. He had none, not when it came to her. He kissed her again, and she felt her skin burst aflame as she returned it avidly, relishing the silken waves of hair beneath her palms as she slid them into his hair. Abruptly he drew back, feeling his blood afire, and Nyssa's heart sank. Was he going to leave her again?

The Castellan read the doubt in her eyes, painfully acute. He simply held out his hand commandingly, and she took it hesitantly.

"Come."

* * *

Nyssa took a deep breath as she stepped over the threshold of her bedchamber, her husband following. They had left the Otherstide celebrations quickly, slipping through the crowd like ghosts, driven by an inchoate need. But now, Nyssa felt even hesitant of what seemed inevitable. She didn't think she would recover if he hurt her again. She didn't know the name of whatever strange emotion welled within at the very thought of him, but it was all consuming, rendering her a fragile wreck on a raging sea of emotion. She walked to stand in front of her bed, slipping off the necklace he had given her, and turned to face him, his eyes unreadable.

The Castellan watched his wife as she faced him, noticed the heightened colour, the shallow breathing. But there was a distance in her eyes; one he had purposefully put there, one he now wanted to tear away. He mentally smirked grimly at the familiar feelings of primal possession rising as he strode to her and took her in his arms, kissing her heatedly. He felt the desire within his soul, and knowingly gave into it; let the reins of his control slide through his fingers. It was inevitable.

Nyssa felt it, felt his surrender in the way he held her so desperately, his passion uncontrolled as he took her down to the bed. Something was different this time. A final barrier had fallen between them, leaving them in the light. She felt her heart soar, and surrendered herself. There was no escape from this feeling and, indeed, she didn't want to.


	11. The Doctor's Alive!

Coming of Age

* * *

Nyssa stirred, feeling her husband's fingers tracing the skin of her back, trailing over her loose curls. She sighed contentedly, her hand splayed over the space where his hearts beat, his arms holding her. Her mind replayed the events of the last night; the destruction of the barrier separating her and her husband. She felt utterly contented, at peace, happy.

The Castellan knew his wife was awake when he felt her sigh, feeling her body pressing against his for a moment, shifting slightly in his arms. He had never known such simple…bliss in all his long life. His life had been empty of anything but his duty, but now she was at the epicentre. And he never wanted to break free.

Remembering the events that had led up to their reconciliation, as it were, he frowned.

"Why were you so upset last night?" he asked, his voice slightly harsh in the early morning light. "What did Rigan say to you?"

Nyssa shrugged. "He merely commented on what he termed as my 'flexible loyalties'."

"And that upset you?" her husband persisted.

"That and other things," Nyssa replied cryptically. She didn't want him to know how much he had hurt her, not when she was lying in his arms, totally at peace. Nothing could intrude in her little bubble of contentment. She felt her husband sigh exasperatedly, and she smiled to herself. She felt his fingers on her chin, tipping her head up to meet his eyes.

"Nyssa, I need to know if Rigan said anything at all out of the norm. He is not a man to be trusted," he continued doggedly, his eyes watching her relentlessly. She sensed there was more to the question. She remembered Rigan's words.

"He said I should remember my 'flexible loyalties' in future. That he and I might have much in common, regarding the High Council," Nyssa replied simply, her eyes dropping to stare blindly at his chest, deep in thought. "I don't understand. Is he a troublemaker?"

"Yes. His chapter are all descendants of Morbius, before his genetic pattern was deleted from the Looms. None of them are to be trusted, Rigan least of all. Their loyalty to Gallifrey has long been suspect," her husband's expression turned serious, as he frowned up at the ceiling. Nyssa's gaze returned to his face, stern and as implacable as rock. Levering herself up on her hands over him, she looked down into his face.

"No matter what Rigan said, my loyalties are not as flexible as he thought. I would never aid him in treachery," she said softly, solemnly, her gaze unflinching from his. He returned her regard, before his lips quirked into a slight smile.

"I know, Nyssa," he replied quietly, before he brought her face to his for a kiss. Nyssa returned it, feeling the coolness of his body begin to heat from hers, felt desire begin to rise again. She wrenched her lips from her husband's, already breathless, feeling his lips caress her neck. But she had something she wanted to ask first, since it seemed a time for asking questions.

"Why did you push me away? Why did you change your mind?" she asked in a painful whisper, her breathing erratic. She saw him close his eyes, breathing out slowly. Suddenly he flipped her onto her back, gently flicking her hair from her face, his body pressing down onto hers.

"Nyssa, you've got to understand that Time Lords…we do not desire, we do not feel emotions the same way humanoids do. We cannot; from birth to death, a Time Lord's duty is to Gallifrey, and to the Web of Time. Emotions such as these must be repressed, lest they interfere with our judgment. When I realised how I feel for you, I…feared it would control me, prevent me from doing my duty. And that is something I couldn't countenance. Every time I'm with you, it is a loss of control, a subjugation of centuries of discipline," he tried to explain, his tone stilted.

"And you don't like doing that," Nyssa mused, her eyes thoughtful.

"No, I don't. I don't like it at all, but I crave it. I don't approve of it, but I need it. I need you. That's why I couldn't stop myself last night. I can't bear to see you hurt, or in pain. Whether I like it or not, I need and care for you, with everything of me there is to give, Nyssa," he finished, his eyes burning. She knew it was not an easy admission to make, for a Time Lord, and she appreciated the struggle he was having. She wondered if Leela had experienced the same with Andred.

"I will never attempt to come between you and your duty to Gallifrey…Eldred," she whispered, her smile turning mischievous on that last, her lovely eyes glinting. She smiled even more at the narrowing of her husband's eyes.

"How did you find out my name?" he asked, one eyebrow raised.

"I have my sources of information," she teased, before she leaned up and kissed him, her hand going to the back of his neck to pull him down to her. In that moment, she felt totally relaxed, and so did he, his tension disappearing.

With a gasp, Nyssa felt his mind open to her, as she had felt it during their bonding ceremony, and pulled herself back from the dizzying rush. Breathing raggedly, she stared up at him. In that one second, she had felt everything; his need for her, his devotion, both to her and to Gallifrey, everything as her own emotion.

"Did I not mention you're linked to my mind, as mine is to yours?" her husband smirked down at her, and she glared.

"It seems to have slipped your mind. Wait, that's how you found me so quickly, that night I slipped away from my guard!" Nyssa exclaimed, understanding coming in a rush, feeling equal amounts annoyance and intrigued curiosity. "Of all the conceited arrog-!"

He cut her off with a kiss, framing her face with his hands, as she gave up and returned it. His body weighed heavily on hers, but she didn't care as she arched beneath him, her hands gliding over the strong muscles of his back.

A chime interrupted them, as Nyssa felt her husband sigh frustratedly, before releasing her mouth and rolling off her. Slumping back against the pillows, Nyssa watched her husband as he dressed, drawing the sheets around herself. She abruptly felt too cold, her skin shivering. Her morning nausea returned with a rush, and she struggled to focus, feeling the gorge rise in her throat. What was happening to her?

* * *

Slowly, the nausea faded, and she stood shakily, a cold sweat covering her skin in a shiny film as she padded towards her wardrobe. Reaching it, she felt her husband's eyes on her worriedly, as she dressed absentmindedly.

"Nyssa?"

At the question, she went to turn around, too quickly. Dizziness filled her, and her knees buckled. Her husband caught her before she hit the floor, cradling her in his arms as she struggled to stand.

"Nyssa, what is wrong?" he asked, frowning down at her.

"Just some dizziness. It'll pass soon," she replied, sending him a reassuring smile, as he swung her into his arms and laid her back on her bed. He fixed her with a stony look, noting the flush of blood in her skin, her raised breathing, the clammy-ness of her skin.

"How long has this been going on?" he asked, feeling for her pulse. Her heart rate was slightly faster, but nothing dangerous.

"A few weeks, maybe a month. It's nothing," she tried to assure him, one hand rising to his face.

"You should've told me. Promise me you will go to the medtechs today," he scolded her gently but sternly. He hoped it wasn't anything serious, but she needed to go.

"I will. Now go on, you've got work to do," she said, with a bright smile. The dizziness had already started to settle, and she felt some strength return. She had no intention of going to the medtechs, and she knew her husband knew it too, in his sigh of exasperation.

"Rest, then. I will see you later," he said quietly, gently stroking her cheek with his hand. Nyssa kissed the palm pressed to her cheek, and let him go, her eyes following him out the room. When she heard his office door close, she relaxed back into her pillows, her mind drifting pleasantly. Remembering the events of the night.

* * *

A moment later, she sat bolt upright. Leela! The human had asked her to come to her quarters. She had to hurry. It had to be something to do with the Doctor. As she scrambled up from her bed, she felt a surge of guilt. Surely she should tell her husband?

Nyssa felt torn, but what could she do? Her husband's duty was to Gallifrey, and whether she liked it or not, her duty was to him. But she hadn't told him her loyalty was to the Doctor also. If there was a possibility he was still alive, she owed it to him to help him. One last time.

Decided, she stood and grabbed her cloak, before slipping silently from her quarters.

* * *

In the Time Control room, Commander Maxil slipped into the empty nerve centre of the Time Lords. Now, whilst the aftermath of Otherstide still held the Time Lords in somnolence, was the opportune time to finish his investigation into the Doctor's execution. It had been delayed, first by an incident involving the creature that had tried to bond with the Doctor, then the attempt on Lord President Borusa's life, and then again by Otherstide. Castellan Eldred had been none too pleased about the turn of events, but finally he was completing his assignment. Both he and the Castellan had sensed something was not right about the Doctor's termination.

Visually sweeping the room to ensure no one was lurking out of bounds; he placed his ceremonial helmet on the side and crossed swiftly to the computer. He efficiently worked through the data logs, before something caught his eye. Frowning, he double-checked and triple-checked. The evidence was conclusive; there was no alternative. Decisively, he spoke into his wrist comm unit.

"Yes, Maxil?" Castellan Eldred's voice came over the comm, terse and severe.

"I think you should come down here, Castellan."

"Have you completed the investigation?" was the harsh reply.

"Yes, Castellan."

"Well?"

"I think the evidence would be better explained here, Castellan," Maxil replied, uneasy about speaking over the comm. If what he had discovered was true, then it was too dangerous.

* * *

Nyssa hurried along the corridor to Leela's quarters, a strange expectation rushing through her body, sharpened by the fresh wave of dizziness threatening.

_Nyssa….Nyssa…._

Nyssa heard the Doctor's voice in her head, calling to her, but she had no way of answering. Surely this meant he was alive?

Reaching the door of Leela's rooms, she pressed the door chime, almost bouncing in her haste and excitement. The door opened soundlessly, and she rushed in. She was met by K-9.

"Greetings, Mistress Nyssa. Mistress Leela is in the sitting room," he chirped, in his electronic voice. Still cloaked, she hurried into the room.

Leela was sat on one of the sofas, dressed in boots, trousers and what looked like a top made out of animal skins, her knife belted at her side. Her eyes watched Nyssa gravely as she walked towards her. The young Trakenite appeared flushed and ill, her eyes glittering. She was dressed in a pearl-grey gown, shimmering around her body, the blue cloak floating behind her.

"Leela? What news?" Nyssa asked, concentrating on the older woman's face. Why her strange condition had to rear its head now, she had no idea. "Has Damon found out if-?"

"Damon has not been able to get back into Time Control. I'm sorry, Nyssa," Leela interrupted her harshly, a little harsher than she had intended. Nyssa visibly deflated, and passed a shaking hand over her face. Leela was filled with concern. "Nyssa, what is it? You are unwell,"

"No, no. I am fine. What did you wish to tell me that was so urgent then?" Nyssa asked, taking a deep breath to steady herself, hope still within her.

"Only that Commander Maxil has recommenced his investigation, and I fear that when he does, and he discovers what I and Damon suspect, then you will be in danger. Nyssa, are you sure you're well?" Leela stood, reaching out to Nyssa, as she wavered slightly.

"I am fine. Please-" but the rest of her words were abruptly cut short, as she felt herself collapse. Leela caught her up, as K-9 trundled back into the room.

"K-9! Summon the medtechs; Lady Nyssa is ill," she barked, laying Nyssa down on the sofa, feeling the clammy-ness of her skin.

"No! There is no need!" Nyssa protested weakly, hanging onto Leela's wrist with a desperate strength. "It's only a temporary weakness; it will pass,"

"But-"

"No! If I'm taken by the medtechs from your quarters, how suspicious will that look?" Nyssa asked pointedly, one eyebrow raised. She knew she was right. Leela looked a little unsure, uncertainty emanating from her. "I will be fine. Leela, I have to tell you. I think the Doctor is alive, and I believe he has tried to contact me mentally,"

"You mean by telepathy?" Leela asked, confusedly.

"Yes! It is a latent talent among my people, and the Doctor has been helping me to uncover it. I think he has been trying to contact me for some time," Nyssa explained, before she paused. "Maybe that's the reason for my condition? The attempts do seem to coincide with these dizzy spells and nausea,"

"Mental telepathy and physical illness do not correlate, Mistress. The physical weakness must have another origin," K-9 interjected, his ears whirring. "Nor do I detect a telepathic field. There is too much distortion,"

"In a place with so many telepaths, I'm not surprised," Leela snorted. She looked at Nyssa, noted her flushed skin, her heavy breathing, the heated flesh. A suspicion grew in her mind, and she inspected the younger woman's figure for signs of it. In her tribe, she had seen such signs on women in the first few weeks of pregnancy. "K-9, do a physiological scan for me. K-9 can perform medical scans and diagnose possible ailments, although he is no doctor. Just to check," she assured Nyssa. She nodded, and lay back as the robotic dog moved closer, a strange attachment darting out from his head to bury itself against Nyssa's hair.

"Physiological scan shows lack of necessary vitamins in the bloodstream; however the female is essentially healthy. Scans show rise in hormonal levels, as well as elevated heart rate. The binary heart rate of the foetus is-"

"Wait, what!" Nyssa sat upright, agitated. Was this robotic dog telling her what she thought it was telling her? But it was impossible!

"Mistress is entering the second month of gestation. You are pregnant, Mistress Nyssa," K-9 replied blandly. Nyssa stared at it uncomprehendingly. She couldn't be pregnant, she just couldn't be! Every logical thought in her brain was wiped clean.

"K-9, how far along is the pregnancy?" Leela asked, her brain still working logically. Nyssa envied her the luxury.

"Impossible to tell with an unknown hybrid such as this, Mistress. Insufficient data available," K-9 replied promptly.

"B-but the Pythia's curse! Gallifrey was rendered sterile, h-how can this be?" Nyssa asked, her mind jumping in a million different directions. She didn't know what to feel, her dizziness forgotten.

"I do not know. This is an unprecedented occurrence!" Leela replied, smiling gently. "It gives me hope, as it will the entire Citadel when they learn of this,"

Almost hyperventilating, Nyssa fought to calm herself down. She was pregnant, with Eldred's child! For a moment she felt incredibly afraid and alone, before a golden happiness dawned in her soul. Dropping a hand to her abdomen, she felt through the layers of silk, trying to feel movement, but would there be any? At this stage, her second month, she knew there wouldn't be, but it was hardly an ordinary pregnancy. Half Gallifreyan, half Trakenite. She was surprised it was even genetically possible, between two such alien races, in all but appearance. Looking up from her reverie, she saw Leela's stern look.

"It is now more imperative than ever that you stay out of this. I will escort you back to your rooms," Leela pronounced firmly, offering Nyssa a hand. Nyssa refused it, standing alone. In her sudden upheaval, her strength had returned, now she understood why she had been so weakened. With her mental ability, she could lock away the dizziness and the feelings of nausea temporarily, at least until this crisis was past. She had no intention of staying out of the way; the Doctor was her friend too and she would help him, come what may.

* * *

Castellan Eldred looked down at the computer screen, grimly taking in what his mind refused to see. That a Time Lord could be a traitor!

"The circuit was altered, rigged to cut out at the moment of termination." Maxil's brusque tone brought him back to reality. He placed his fisted hands on his hips, sighing.

"Then the Doctor didn't die," he finished for him, frowning, his mouth compressed into one, grim line.

"Not according to this. And something else," the Castellan looked at him expectantly, thinking ahead, "Lady Nyssa was right about his bioscan. It was transmitted from Gallifrey,"

Castellan Eldred felt those words like a punch to his gut. Could Nyssa have anything to do with this? Had everything that had ever passed between them been a lie? As was expected of a Time Lord, he didn't allow his inner chaos to show, locking it away until he could deal with it, asserting his authority. Readjusting his robes, he nodded decisively.

The Doctor had to be in hiding, if the termination had failed. But first he had to cross-examine Nyssa and Damon.

"We must find the Doctor and the rest will fall into place,"

"Should the High Council be told?" Maxil asked, his face unemotional as always. The Castellan turned to him.

"No. We'll handle this ourselves," he replied brusquely. The risk was too great, if one of the Councillors was indeed a traitor to Gallifrey. "Bring Damon and Lady Nyssa here."

Maxil inclined his head and left the room, leaving the Castellan to brood, his face hard and stern, but within fighting to retain control. Had Nyssa betrayed him?

* * *

Leela led Nyssa back to her quarters, keeping an eye on the young Trakenite. But she had regained her strength, the revelation of her pregnancy having buoyed her up, along with successfully caging her weakness, now she knew what it was. Just as they reached the doors to her room, Nyssa turned to Leela, clutching her wrist desperately.

"Leela, you must promise me something," she begged her in a whisper. "Promise me you will tell no one of this, until I have told my husband and we have ascertained if the Doctor is alive or not,"

Leela hesitated for a moment. "Very well. I will not tell anyone. But you must be careful," she warned her. Her huntress's senses picked up the tramp of Guardsmen's boots along the adjacent corridor, and she slipped away with a nod of farewell. She watched Leela disappear into the shadows, before she felt a presence at her shoulder. Turning around, she met Maxil's cold hazel eyes. She had never liked the ruthlessly efficient Gallifreyan.

"What are you doing here?" she asked imperiously.

"You are to come with me, my lady," he said, by way of explanation. Studying his inscrutable face, Nyssa rebelled.

"I demand to know-"

"Move." Maxil pulled his gun on her, and Nyssa stiffened. Had they been discovered? Had they discovered the rigged termination circuits?

"Very well," she acquiesced, knowing she had little choice, but she arrogantly stepped in front of Maxil, refusing to let him lead the way. With a slight sinking of the heart, she realised she was headed for Time Control.

* * *

Nyssa entered the room, to find more guards and her husband waiting for her. Meeting his unreadable grey eyes, Nyssa was shocked by the detached look in them. Did he believe her a traitor?

With a sigh of relief she recognised Damon in the shadows, worry in the set of his youthful face. Gracefully gliding down the steps toward the computer where her husband waited, she tilted her chin haughtily, proudly refusing to be intimidated by his implacable stare. Damon joined her side, as she halted, never taking her eyes off her husband.

"Castellan, why have we been brought here?" Damon asked.

Her husband, true to form, launched right into an interrogation, as Nyssa stood by and watched serenely, inwardly thinking fast. Her husband's eyes left hers, to piercingly entrap Damon. She was extremely aware of Maxil and his guards at their backs, feeling as though they were being put on trial.

Castellan Eldred leaned forward over the desk, resting his fists on its surface, as he scrutinised Damon intently.

"You transmitted the Doctor's bioscan, didn't you?" he asked, watching for a rise of consciousness in the young Gallifreyan's eyes. A slight flicker in the brown was all he needed.

"Without the codes? How could I?" Damon asked, his voice steady and sure.

"But you knew about it." Eldred pressed persistently, still waiting for the slight give of emotional control he knew would come, if Damon was guilty and his suspicions true. But it did not.

"Yes. Talor and I found out by accident,"

"Why didn't you tell me what Talor had learnt?"

"Only members of the High Council have access to bioscan circuits and you are a Councillor, Castellan. That was my dilemma," Damon replied reasonably, fending off the persistent interrogation. Nyssa had not been questioned, but she watched both her husband and Damon intensely, keeping her tongue for once. Maxil must have discovered the rigged termination circuit and informed her husband. And now he, no doubt, thought her a traitor. Which she supposed she was, in a way, since she hadn't told him of Leela's and Damon's suspicions. But was it treason when the act had not been lawful in the first place?

* * *

At Damon's reasonable, perfectly plausible argument, the Castellan took a deep breath. He had to concede Damon could not have had anything to do the release of the Doctor's bioscan.

"But there is still the matter of the interference of the termination circuits." he continued doggedly, his eyes searching Damon's intently. He didn't look at his wife, couldn't do so lest the turmoil of emotion within him at her apparent treachery escape and show in his eyes. He had to do his duty.

"Of that I know nothing. I don't know the coding that would give access."

"The Doctor would know. He could instruct you. You had contact with the Doctor, before his termination, didn't you?" the Castellan asked, sensing he neared the mark.

Damon, flustered slightly, fought to defend himself. "Yes, but…"

"It's a pity you weren't so concerned when the Doctor was alive!" Nyssa joined the fray, defending her friend, pulling the attention onto herself. She couldn't let this go on; they were not guilty of treason.

"Don't play games with me, Nyssa. The Doctor is alive and you know it!" the Castellan barked harshly, and Nyssa saw the implacability that had earned him his reputation. He had locked that gentler, more human side of him away, doing his duty for Gallifrey. The sight hurt Nyssa's heart. But at the confirmation that what she had hoped for was true, she couldn't hide her slight smile, nor resist looking at Damon to gauge his reaction. But he, true child of Gallifrey gave nothing away, unlike her.

* * *

As if pronouncing judgment, the Castellan continued ruthlessly.

"We know there's a conspiracy and we'll get to the heart of it."

"Then find the Time Lord who killed Talor," Damon said quietly, remaining strong before the Castellan's intimidation.

"We will. And the Doctor too," he assured him with a grim little smile, before turning his gaze on Maxil. Nyssa tried to catch his eye, tried to speak to him through their mental link, but it was closed. "Maxil, continue the search. He must be somewhere in the Citadel. You two will remain here until I return,"

And with that the Castellan swept out of the room, following his guards. Trying one last time, Nyssa reached mentally, with all her power.

_My husband, I have not betrayed you…_

He did not pause, or reply as he closed the door. Nyssa felt her heart sink, sorrow filling her. Damon turned to her with a small smile and clasped her arms.

"He's alive, Nyssa!"

* * *

Outside in the corridor, the Castellan fought to retain control. He had felt Nyssa's mental cry like a blow to the head. The girl needed a few lessons. He couldn't deal with the maelstrom of emotion that filled him; betrayal, self-doubt, anger, pain…..

He locked them away. He had to find the Doctor, and expose the Time Lord who had helped him. If he had been in hiding for the last five or six months, then it could be likely he was behind the attempt to assassinate Borusa, as well as the continued loss of power from the Matrix. He had to be stopped.

It was some time later that Nyssa's husband returned, alone, as she looked up from her seat on the floor, her head in her hands, her cloak spread over one of the consoles. He'd regarded her for a moment, watching her beauty, fighting for control. Was it possible she was innocent in this? A part of him wanted so desperately to believe it.

"Damon, you will examine and decode the coding for the termination circuits. Then we will find out which member of the High Council was responsible for all this," he instructed suddenly, making the only other two inhabitants of the room jump. Damon nodded and made his way to console, working efficiently. The Castellan, still ignoring Nyssa, took a place beside him, watching as the computer decoded the complicated information. He felt Nyssa stand, felt her try to reach out to him again, but he would not let her through, not until he knew for sure if she was a traitor.

At last Damon said, "It will need your handprint to decode it, Castellan."

He placed his hand on the scanner, before an alert flashed up on his wrist comm.

"Castellan."

"Have you found him?" the Castellan asked shortly.

"Not yet."

"While your men continue the search, have Thalia, Hedin and Zorac come to my office immediately," he ordered, before he snatched the readouts of code from the printer, studying them intently. What he saw made his stomach drop.

"You know who it is?" Damon asked, noticing the slight shift in the Castellan's expression.

"Yes, we have all the proof we need," he answered abruptly.

"So you know the Doctor is innocent," Nyssa walked to stand in front of him, looking into his eyes earnestly, her conviction burning in her eyes.

"The Doctor plotted this conspiracy. Now we know who helped him," he replied, already turning his back on her. Flicking a glance at Damon, she turned after her husband, determined to make him see. Damon turned away, to give them what privacy he could.

Nyssa caught his sleeve, making her husband turn back to her.

"What is it, Nyssa?" he asked quietly but unemotionally, his eyes closed like polished shields. She elevated her chin, refusing to back down.

"I am innocent, as is Damon, as is the Doctor. We are not part of any conspiracy," she murmured firmly, her jaw setting. The Castellan regarded her with cold eyes. He reminded her of when she had first met him, and it made her shiver.

The Castellan heard his wife's insistent declaration, and pondered it. Could she be privy to the conspiracy taking shape before his eyes if she was so dogged in protesting her innocence, along with Damon's and the Doctor's? Or was it an elaborate smokescreen?

"We shall see," was all he said, as he left her, wresting his arm from her grip. Nyssa watched him go with a heavy heart, wishing for the strength to call him back, to shake some sense into him.

"Can we get out?" she asked. If her husband would not believe, then she would help the Doctor, wherever he was. If the security teams found him first….

"No, he's operated the lock." Damon shrugged, looking at the door. Nyssa sighed and sat down in a chair, feeling tired. Now all they could do was wait and hope the Doctor could evade the search teams, to find his way to them.

* * *

The Castellan marched into his office, pleased to find the other members of the High Council, bar Borusa, already there. It was enough to distract him from Nyssa, at least.

"What the devil's going on, Castellan? Guards crashing about! It's like a madhouse out there!" Zorac's affronted question did not puncture Eldred's arrogant confidence as he strolled leisurely to his seat, still ruminating on the revelation that it was Borusa who was the traitor.

"My apologies, Councillors."

"Castellan, we are not in the habit of being summoned by armed soldiers," Thalia interjected pointedly, annoyance very clear in her tone. The Castellan's back remained turned to her, and she bridled at the arrogance of the gesture. "We're waiting, Castellan!"

Finally he turned back to them, settling into his seat, tearing his mind away, once again, from his wife. He could not allow his emotions to get in the way of his duty now.

"A very grave situation has come to light. We have indisputable evidence that the Doctor is alive," he began seriously.

"Ridiculous. We saw him terminated months ago," Zorac interrupted pompously.

"He's alive, Zorac! My men are searching for him now."

"How can he be? And if he is, why has it taken you so long to discover it?" Thalia asked, her gaze constant on his. He returned it frankly.

"The energy drain on the Matrix, as well as the assassination attempt on the Lord President has distracted me. Efficient smokescreens to protect the Doctor I believe now. As to how he can be alive, Thalia, he was helped to evade termination by one of us. One of the High Council!" he gestured to Maxil, who handed each of the Councillors a copy of the printout from Time Control. He watched as each of them looked down, and their expressions turn incredulous.

"That is a full analysis of the relevant security traffic. Study them well, Councillors. They will tell you who it was," he remarked, his tone cold.

* * *

Nyssa paced the floor of Time Control, thinking desperately. The day had started so well, and had now spiralled into hell. The Doctor was alive, her husband believed her a traitor, one of the High Council _**was**_ a traitor, and she had discovered she was pregnant! Thoughts of Leela rose; surely she would have heard of their predicament by now, couldn't she release them? Or was she constrained by her loyalty to Andred, a Guard Commander?

The question was answered for her, when the doors opened and she spun to face them. For the first time in six months, she looked on the Doctor, tall and golden, as alive as ever, Leela by his side. Joy and relief filled her; "Doctor!" she cried.

Damon turned also, readouts from the computer in his hand. "How did you manage to open the door?"

The Doctor smiled his old smile at them, and spread his hands. "Pure luck!"

Nyssa rushed to embrace him, hugging him wildly. He hugged her back, before he released her, looking slightly bewildered. He held her away from him, his eyes studying her elegant attire.

"Well, well you have changed, Nyssa. How long was I away?" he asked with a slight frown. Tearfully, she smiled at him.

"Six months or so. A lot has changed, Doctor," she told him, _more than you know_. The Doctor looked into his old companion's eyes and saw a wealth of pain in them, alongside a new maturity and a strength he had never seen so openly in her before.

"Six months?" he asked, surprised.

"What happened to you?" Nyssa asked desperately.

"My mind was trapped in the Matrix. My body was hidden behind some sort of energy band. I knew the creature couldn't let me die," he explained in a rush, already releasing Nyssa, Leela drifting by his side.

"At least you could've told me what you were up to!" she said pointedly, following him. He held his hands up, trying to ward off her questions.

"There wasn't time, Nyssa. Damon did you do as I asked?" he accosted the Gallifreyan.

"The Tardis element? Yes."

"What about the power equipment? Anything turn up?" he asked. Noticing Leela, looking a little lost at all the technical jargon coming from the Doctor's mouth, Nyssa turned to her.

"How did you find the Doctor?" she asked in a whispered aside. Leela opened her mouth to answer-

"I found the little savage lurking around close to the Council chambers. She told me you had been brought here," the Doctor interrupted smoothly, affection clear in his tone when he called Leela a 'savage'. Leela shook her head as the two men went back to their conversation.

"He hasn't changed," she murmured.

"No, he hasn't," Nyssa agreed, opening her ears back up to the conversation again.

* * *

_Meanwhile…_

"The Lord President?" Thalia sceptical tone interrupted Castellan Eldred's thoughts as he paced his office, thinking hard.

"You have the proof. His personal codes were used to manipulate the Matrix. Again, his code registered in the computer room the precise time Talor was killed," he halted and swung to face the Councillors, fists on his hips.

"Why?" Zorac asked, utterly bewildered.

"The creature. It's linked to the Doctor and through him to Gallifrey."

To achieve what, Castellan?" Thalia asked, still sceptical.

"We know the creature controls the shift of the Arc of Infinity. We also know this creature has been leaching power and control of the Matrix from us steadily for the past six months," turning, he sat again, tugging his robes into place, "So, what if the Arc were to be permanently located here, linked to the Matrix?"

The Councillors looked at him blankly.

"Enormous power!" he continued, leaning forward earnestly, his frustration breaking through. "Way beyond the ability of anyone to control it, except those already at one with the Matrix,"

Zorac was the first to see it. "The Lord President."

"Yes, and the Doctor. Together with this creature, I am convinced this is what they intend to do,"

"What will you do?" Hedin asked, quietly. He had been quiet throughout the entire meeting.

"I will continue the search. We must wait before we act against the President. We do not wish to create anarchy," the Castellan replied. The others nodded in terse agreement.

"We will wait, before we act," Thalia repeated. The Castellan searched their expressions, his mind wandering once more to his wife. He couldn't stand the confusion and the betrayal, but neither could he ignore it. He sighed wearily.

* * *

_Meanwhile, back in Time Control…_

"Shouldn't we get you off Gallifrey, while we've got the chance?" Nyssa asked cutting into Damon and the Doctor's conversation. He turned to her, obviously having not noticed her phrasing.

"We're going to Earth, Nyssa."

"Earth? What for?" Nyssa asked, turning to him as he bounced around the room, impatiently raring to go, as soon as he had the information he needed.

"That's where the creature is," he told her, by way of explanation.

"The creature's on Earth? How do you know?" she asked.

"It's got Tegan. I saw her in the Matrix," he replied.

"But, Doctor, it's been six months since your termination. How is this possible?"

"Time runs differently, both in the universe at large and in the Matrix than on Gallifrey. I was in the Matrix for six months but I was not aware of the time passing; for Tegan I suspect it will have only been a few hours that she's been imprisoned by the creature. Complicated, I know," he said, already dashing to Damon's side. Leela and Nyssa exchanged identical, long-suffering looks.

"You were right, Doctor. The fusion booster element was transported to Earth but it could've been anywhere. The reception area was lost in severe temporal distortion,"

The Doctor sighed in frustration. "Pity."

"We know who sent it, though,"

"Who?" the question came from three different throats as Leela, Nyssa and the Doctor clustered around him.

Damon looked down at the display. "These codes are unmistakeable. You used them yourself to get in here,"

"The Lord President," the Doctor murmured to himself. It couldn't be true.

"There's no mistake," Damon sighed.

"What are you going to do, Doctor?" Leela asked, watching her old friend's face inscrutably.

"We must see the Lord President immediately," the Doctor replied, motioning for Nyssa and Leela to follow him.

"But the Castellan's Guards are all over the place, Doctor!" Damon protested, alarm surging through him as he regarded Nyssa and Leela. Both would have to live with the consequences if this went wrong.

"Thank you for all your help, Damon. I shall never be able to repay you," the Doctor interrupted his concern, shaking his hand profusely as Nyssa and Leela rushed to the doors. Damon tried one last time.

"Nyssa, please! Think what you're doing!"

Nyssa looked at him, and knew what he was thinking. Maybe she should tell the Doctor about her new life, just quickly.

"Doctor, I need to tell you something…" she began, but he cut her off.

"Not now, tell me later Nyssa. Come on," he led the way until he noticed Nyssa pulling out a small blaster from a cupboard. "Nyssa."

The two syllables were steeped in disapproval and disbelief, as she looked up at him. He sensed something behind her eyes, and wondered what had happened to the girl to change her so radically.

"Just in case," she said, setting it to stun. Leela pulled out her knife, ready and waiting, as they slipped out the door.

"Good luck Doctor," Damon called, worry congealing in his heart. He hoped they would be alright.

* * *

The Doctor, Nyssa and Leela walked quickly through the deserted hallways, all Time Lords confined to their rooms, listening with all their might for the approach of the Guards. Suddenly one appeared and shot at them, as Leela darted out of the way. The Doctor grabbed Nyssa and pulled her aside and they sprinted back the way they came. Nyssa's long skirts impeded her movement, and she wished she had changed that morning. An alarm sounded, and they picked up their pace. Nyssa tightened her hold on the blaster.

As they hurried down yet another corridor, a guard appeared from around the corner, already reaching for his blaster. Feeling the Doctor reach for her, Leela readying herself to throw her knife, Nyssa brought the blaster up in one graceful movement and took aim, firing a second later. The Guardsman collapsed to the floor, as the Doctor shot her an unreadable look, one she returned candidly. She wasn't the same girl he had known before.

"Come on. In here," he said briskly, pulling her into an alcove as the sound of boots approached. Nyssa saw Maxil go past, pressing herself even further into the wall, squashed between the Doctor and Leela. She heard his disjointed conversation with her husband over the wrist comms.

_You found him?_

"Not yet, but he can't be far away."

_Hurry it up, Maxil. I need him. Find him!_

* * *

With a relieved sigh, she heard Maxil and his Guards disappear around the corner, as they slipped out behind them and ran in the opposite direction, towards the Presidential wing. Suddenly she felt her husband's presence in her mind, trying to see her location, and she gasped. The intrusion was so sudden, she fought for a moment.

"Nyssa?" Leela asked, concerned, as they stopped for one second, just before the Lord President's door. Inside they could hear voices, as Nyssa fought to block out her husband.

_I know you're there, Eldred. Stop it, you're hurting me!_

_Nyssa, why have you betrayed me?_

_I am no traitor and neither is the Doctor!_

And with that, she wrenched her mind free, feeling the contact dim, and looked up into the Doctor's worried face.

"Nyssa?" he asked uncertainly.

"The Castellan knows where we are, we must hurry," she murmured, leading the way forward, the Doctor and Leela on her heels.

* * *

The Doctor burst through the door, to find Councillor Hedin holding a gun on Borusa. Nyssa and Leela stopped, brought up short, as she raised her blaster. Something was not right.

"Hedin, you don't believe this stuff about the Lord President?" was the Doctor's disbelieving question as he slid to a halt

"Doctor, be careful!" Borusa warned, trying to convey something with his eyes. Nyssa tightened her hold on the blaster, ready to fire.

"What is it?" oblivious, the Doctor was shocked when Hedin turned the gun on them.

"Throw down your weapons!" he said quiet but authoritatively. Nyssa looked at her blaster, unsure. Could she fire in time?

"So it's you," the Doctor said, betrayal clear in his eyes. Nyssa felt it, felt his pain at his old friend's betrayal.

"Nyssa, Leela your weapons. I shall kill even you," Hedin continued, ignoring the Doctor. Reluctantly, Nyssa dropped her blaster, as Leela did the same with her knife, sullen-faced.

"Traitor!" Leela snarled, her fists curled into balls.

The Doctor looked sadly thoughtful, even as he placed a restraining hand on Leela's arm.

"Now over there," Hedin gestured to the Lord President, reinforcing the edict with a wave of his gun.

"The bioscan, the rigged termination, all your work, Hedin?" the Doctor asked, meeting his old friend's eyes.

"I did what I had to. Now do as you are told," the old Time Lord replied, fanatical zeal burning in his eyes. Slowly the threesome went to join Borusa, the Doctor and Nyssa standing on one side of him, Leela on the side closest to Hedin. Mentally reaching out, Nyssa searched for her husband. He was close, she could feel it, and she felt a surge of relief. At that very moment, she wanted nothing more than to be held in his arms. Then she remembered he thought her a traitor.

The Doctor turned to Borusa. "It was all done to make us think you were responsible, Lord President. And now Hedin?"

"Nothing must interfere with transfer," was the simple reply. Nyssa looked at the old man in front of her, whom she had thought a friend and an ally, and saw the insanity and misguided devotion burning there. She shivered. The Doctor looked behind him at the window onto the Matrix, and looked back.

"It's finally that close?"

"Very. After so long, it is almost time,"

"I always considered you a friend, Hedin. A man of learning, respected by all. Why now turn to evil?" the Doctor asked. Leela made an impatient movement, and Hedin's gun swung to centre on her. She froze.

"You don't understand," Hedin shook his head sadly.

"This creature will soon control the Matrix. Is that what you want?" the Doctor asked, his voice rising in anger. After months living with restrained, emotionally controlled Time Lords, the change was frightening to Nyssa.

"This is no alien creature, Doctor. It's one of us, a Time Lord. The first and greatest of our people, the one who sacrificed all to give us mastery of time and was shamefully abandoned in return!" Hedin began a self-righteous, zealous rant, as Nyssa saw comprehension dawn in the Doctor's face. Omega. She had learnt enough Gallifreyan history to know whom Hedin was talking about; and to know he was supposed to be dead. Leela sent her a look that clearly spoke her disbelief, as they turned to look back at Hedin.

"Omega?" the Doctor murmured thoughtfully.

"Yes. Omega."

But Omega died!" the Doctor protested.

"No, he exists Doctor. He only wants to live amongst us and he will, as soon as he transfers here," Hedin replied, dogmatically.

"Omega is insane!" the Doctor exploded desperately trying to make Hedin see. He'd had personal experience of Omega. He knew how dangerous and deranged he was. "Once in control of the Matrix-"

"He wants nothing for himself. The power is for the good of all!" Hedin said, moving aside just as the doors burst inward, revealing the Castellan and his Guards. For one moment, Nyssa felt only relief, before she saw the look in her husband's cold eyes as they raked her form, moving onto the Doctor.

* * *

"Well done, Hedin."

"Castellan!" Borusa stared at the sight of his head of security. The Castellan held up an armed blaster, set to kill, trained on the Lord President.

"You're under arrest, Lord President. As for you, Doctor, you were sentenced to death,"

"Eldred-" Nyssa' voice was drowned out, as the Doctor looked at her, surprised at her use of his name, the Castellan's voice rising ruthlessly.

"This time sentence will be carried out!"

Hedin threw himself in front of the shot, with a cried "NO!", collapsing to the floor. The Doctor immediately knelt by his side, checking for a pulse.

"You fool! He could've told us where Omega is!" the Doctor shouted angrily, his gaze trained on the Castellan, anger burning in those blue orbs.

"Omega?" the Castellan asked, confusion making him pause for a moment.

"Put up your weapon, Castellan," the Lord President ordered.

"But the Doctor is a traitor!" the Castellan reiterated, bringing his weapon to bear on the Doctor once more. Preparing to fire.

Not stopping to think, Nyssa stood in front of the Doctor, facing her husband down. Nothing moved in the Council chamber, as Nyssa watched her husband.

"Nyssa, move!" he ordered her, momentarily brought up short.

"No," she replied, her gaze unflinching.

"Move!"

"NO!" she shouted. "I will not let you kill the Doctor. He is innocent!"

"He is a traitor, and I will shoot, if I must," he warned her, his finger tightening around the trigger. She raised her chin, her hand absentmindedly rising to her abdomen.

"Then do it," she said, quieter than the wind, unblinking. Nothing moved, as Nyssa and the Castellan stared each other down, the Doctor and Borusa watching them tensely.

"Nyssa, I am warning you for the last time. Move!" he said, his voice severe, harsh, all but a snarl.

"No," was her only reply, stubbornly refusing to move. At that moment Leela stepped forward, unseen in the shadows.

"Would you kill your wife, Castellan?" she asked him archly.

"If I must," he said, but there was little conviction in his voice. For the first time in centuries he hesitated to do his duty.

"You would kill your wife and… the woman carrying the first naturally conceived child on Gallifrey for millennia?" Leela asked. The Castellan froze. "The mother of your child?"

Nyssa felt her heart sink as Leela gave away her secret. She felt Borusa catch his breath behind her, his gaze centred between her shoulder blades, nothing to the flames and emotion she could see shining in her husband's eyes. Murmurs had broken out among the Guardsmen, but they soon died down, as Nyssa continued to look into the eyes of her husband, feeling as though she were trying to breathe in a vacuum. She was trapped in those grey orbs, as his own breath came fast and shallow. They were frozen, like two ice statues.

Out the corner of her eye, she saw the Doctor turn to Borusa and ask, in a tone of complete bewilderment, "Did I miss something here?"


	12. The Treacherous Truth

Coming of Age

* * *

Nyssa couldn't tear her gaze from her husband's, feeling her weakness return. The eyes of every Time Lord in the room were on her, the Doctor's included. How could Leela have betrayed her trust, even if it was to save her life?

Castellan Eldred could only stare at his wife, the staser in his hand lowering slightly. She was pregnant? But such a thing could not occur; natural conception had long since been impossible on Gallifrey. But then the curse had been restricted to female Gallifreyans; Nyssa was not a native of the planet. Could it be possible?

Regardless, he couldn't shoot her, not even to take down a traitor. He just couldn't.

"Doctor!" Leela's alarmed shout had them all turning, released from the spell of her revelation. Nyssa wrenched her eyes from her husband to see the negative image of some strange creature on the Matrix interface. Fear filled her, giving her something else to think about.

"Doctor?" she asked, her voice weakened, feeling her husband's gaze boring a hole directly between her shoulder blades. She could feel his hurt, his anger and something else. Something Nyssa couldn't identify.

"It's too late. Omega controls the Matrix," the Doctor replied, a mixture of awe, fear and desperation burning in his eyes. The Lord President signalled to the Castellan and his Guards to remove Hedin's body. Nyssa didn't turn around, couldn't make her legs move. She wasn't ready to face her husband's anger yet. They left, Leela accompanying them, and she felt the absence of her husband's gaze like a physical weight off her chest. She focussed on what the Doctor was saying. "We know who you are." The Doctor continued, Nyssa's condition already fading to the back of his mind in light of more serious matters.

"That changes nothing," Omega's menacing, hypnotic voice replied. "Transfer will take place as planned."

"But you are antimatter," Borusa said, confusion and disbelief very clear in his wise old eyes. Nyssa could only stare at the screen, transfixed.

"You seriously believe you can reverse what happened?" the Doctor asked, his tone derisive.

"Oh yes, Doctor."

"Not without Hedin's help," Borusa pointed out. "Your friend is dead,"

Omega growled angrily, and smashed his fist into his palm, as the screen went blank.

* * *

"Omega! Listen!" the Doctor tried to bring him back, pushing Nyssa aside as he did so, desperation clear in the planes of his youthful face. Nothing changed on the Matrix interface.

"Omega must be found and stopped!" Borusa said, worry emanating from him. Nyssa could feel it.

"We know he's on Earth," the Doctor replied, matter of factly. Borusa turned to her confusedly, as Nyssa smiled slightly.

"He has a friend of ours captive. Tegan, an Earthwoman," she explained ruefully. The Doctor never was good at explaining himself when he was in a hurry, or stressed, as he seemed now, pacing up and down the Council chamber.

Borusa regarded her interestedly. "Would she know their precise location?"

"Perhaps, but I would have to enter the Matrix to find out," The Doctor replied, looking towards the two gravely. Nyssa turned to the Doctor, alarm raging through her. If he did that, Omega would fathom what he was up to and possibly kill Tegan to keep her silent. They couldn't risk it.

"No! Omega's mad. He'll kill her," she objected furiously, disbelieving that the Doctor would put their friend in such danger.

"Please, Nyssa…." The Doctor began calmly, but Nyssa refused to back down.

"You know-"

"Wait in the Tardis!" the Doctor's angry shout had Nyssa freezing up, glaring at him. She was not an obedient little child any more. She drew herself up haughtily.

"No! I won't let you put her in harm's way!"

The Doctor looked at her, surprised. This was not the Nyssa he remembered; and for the first time since they had been reunited he looked at her properly. Her hair was longer, she seemed taller, but there was that strength again, in her warm eyes, one that hadn't been there before. Obviously her marriage to the Castellan had made her grow up even faster than before, made her change not just physically but intrinsically too. _Then again_ _she would need to be strong to live with that old stiff-necked bureaucrat,_ the Doctor thought wryly. Forcing himself to calm down, he put both his hands on Nyssa's forearms, looking into her eyes. Borusa watched them curiously.

"Nyssa, please. You know I wouldn't be doing this if there was another way. Please, wait in the Tardis," he pleaded softly, trying to make her see. Nyssa regarded him stonily. "There is truly no other way?"

"No." the Doctor answered truthfully. He had thought over every other method of finding Omega, and Tegan was their best chance. Their only chance. "Tegan is our only hope of finding him, Nyssa,"

"Very well, Doctor," Nyssa sighed, "Do what you must," and with that she turned on her heel and left the room. The Doctor stared after her incredulously. Had she just given him her _permission_?

"What have you done to her?" he asked Borusa mock-seriously, before he got back to business. "Even if we know where Omega is, can the Tardis leave Gallifrey?"

"We will contrive a way for you to leave….."

* * *

As Nyssa left the Council chambers, the Doctor and Borusa's conversation died away in her ears. She was filled with worry for her human friend, worried that the Doctor's typical Time Lord arrogance would stop him from seeing how at risk Tegan was. Why did all Gallifreyan men have to be so arrogant?

Her mind was so distracted; she didn't feel her husband's presence until a hand of steel wrapped itself about her elbow, pulling her into an alcove. She opened her mouth to scream when a cool hand pressed against her lips, and she met the mercurial eyes of her husband. Relief filled her, and she sagged slightly between him and the wall, before she remembered what Leela had let slip in the Council chambers. Not to mention the barely contained mixture of anger, hurt and that strange emotion she could feel from him, making her knees weak. She met her husband's eyes, and felt apprehension send cold shivers down her spine. This was not good…

"Why didn't you tell me?" Eldred asked her, in voice so deadly quiet, it sent ripples of unease emanating through Nyssa. She was crushed between him and the wall, with no avenue of escape. She had no choice but to look him in the eye.

"I know you're angry at the moment-" Nyssa began before he cut her off, his fury and betrayal sounding in his voice.

"Just answer the question, Nyssa!"

Nyssa continued, raising her voice slightly. She would not be intimidated.

"But I could hardly tell you when I only found out this morning," she put emphasis on the 'morning' part. "There wasn't any time,"

"You should've told me-"

"How could I have done when you suspected me a traitor?" Nyssa asked him, trying not to breathe when she was so close to him, fetched up against the front of his robes. That seemed to draw him up short; as he just looked at her. Nyssa remembered the despair she had felt; just a few short hours ago, when she'd looked at him and thought of their child.

Summoning her courage, she raised her hand to his face, looking earnestly into his eyes, willing him to see the truth. "I wanted to tell you, so much, but I couldn't."

And she was right; had she told him whilst he still thought her a traitor, he would have been suspicious of her motives. Feeling tears fill her eyes, she leant forward and rested her head on his chest, listening to the twin heartbeats beneath her ear. "I'm sorry," she breathed out, closing her eyes against the tears threatening to fall. She felt him exhale slowly, painfully before his arms closed around her with a relieved sigh. She was just as relieved to be back in his arms as she held him to her. One of his hands gently stroked her long curls, resting his chin on her head.

"No, forgive me Nyssa. I should've listened to you but I was blinded by my own arrogance and sense of duty."

At the quiet admission, Nyssa raised her head to look her husband in the eye. "Would you have shot me?"

Eldred just looked at her, wondering how to answer, after her painful honesty. But he couldn't lie to her anymore than she could to him.

"No, I could never hurt you, Nyssa," he murmured, before tilting her head up, kissing her softly. Their kiss quickly intensifying, Nyssa sank into his arms as he gently pushed her against the wall, feeling one hand splay over her lower abdomen, where their child grew within her. It was then that she felt his astonishment, his ill-concealed unease and the wonder behind his façade, as she reluctantly pulled back from his lips to speak.

"What's the matter?" she asked. She watched her husband look down, at his hand spread across her stomach and give a small, mirthless laugh.

"This…is just impossible, Nyssa. Children haven't been seen on Gallifrey for so long; I…." he trailed off, and Nyssa blinked. For once in his life, in their joint lives together, he was speechless. Completely at sea and drowning in uncertainty. Hesitantly, Nyssa placed her own hand over his, where it lay on her stomach, and leaned her forehead against his, closing her eyes.

"This is our child, Eldred. We will face whatever will come together," she whispered. Opening her eyes, she saw that same devotion burning there, and felt joy spark in her heart. She kissed him long and hard, letting him pull her closer, giving all of herself. Remembering the Doctor, and Tegan, she gently pulled away. "I have to go."

He pulled her back, confusion in those bright silver eyes, before comprehension dawned.

"You are going nowhere in your condition, Nyssa! Least of all gallivanting off with the Doctor!" he said, quietly but firmly. Nyssa closed her eyes, summoning all her patience, before she opened them again.

"I have to help him, one last time," she replied, equally as firm. She could feel Eldred's building frustration. He pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing deeply.

"I swear, Nyssa, you're going to be the regeneration of me one of these days. You are not going anywhere," he repeated the edict, one Nyssa could to his chagrin, shrug off with ease.

"Eldred, please. The Doctor needs me, needs me to help him. Tegan needs me as well," she pleaded, trying to slide away from him. He only pulled her back again, pressing hard on her abdomen, snatching her hand and making her feel the living miracle she now carried within her.

"Nyssa, you can't just think only of yourself. If you go you put yourself and our child in danger. The magnetism shielding the creature is fading quickly. Even if the Doctor finds Omega; there will not be enough time to stop him before he reverts to antimatter and then you will be destroyed," he told her bleakly, an uncharacteristic panic filling him at the thought of her in danger. "You cannot go,"

Nyssa felt the truth of his words, felt them sink into her soul. Could she really put her child in danger? But she couldn't let the Doctor down, not now, not after she had just found him again. And Tegan…

"I must," she murmured quietly, raising her chin. She felt her husband's anger break free.

"This is insane! What is it that binds you to the Doctor? Why would you put your life, and the life of an innocent child, in danger for him?" he asked her, utterly perplexed.

"Because I owe him everything. He saved me from death when my world was destroyed; he has saved me so many times, sheltered me, fathered me and taught me so much. If it weren't for him, I would never have become who I am now. Please, let me go," she begged him, but his arms only tightened around her waist. "Let me help him, one last time,"

"Nyssa," he growled warningly, "You can't ask me to let you put yourself in danger."

"No I can't," she agreed, "Which is why I'm telling you, you will. Have faith in the Doctor. He won't let any harm come to me,"

"Nyssa please…"

At the pleading whisper against her lips, Nyssa opened her mind and looked into his. She saw the fear, the uncertainty as well as the possessive devotion in him. Trying to reassure him, ignoring her own fear, she showed him every memory of the Doctor and their adventures, showed why she had just cause for faith in him. He stiffened under the mental contact, before relaxing and letting her show him. Then she realised the real fear, the one driving him, the inchoate agony tensing his muscles, keeping her strained against him. He didn't want to let her go, not just for fear of what happen to her and their unborn child, but he feared she would not return to him. That the Doctor would whisk her away forever.

* * *

Breaking the mental link; she opened her eyes blearily, still caged between his arms against the wall, her breathing ragged and shallow, his not much better. She kissed him lingeringly; putting all she felt for him into the embrace.

"Trust me," at the whisper, Castellan Eldred looked into his wife's open eyes and saw the truth there.

"Come back to me," he pleaded, fighting to remain strong, to keep down the instinctive barriers that hid his most innermost emotions from the world, even from himself, as he kissed her desperately, never wanting to let go.

"I will, I promise. I will come back to you, Eldred," she breathed in between heated kisses, fighting to remain coherent. Wondering if this was the last time she would ever see him again, she gathered her courage to say something she never thought she would. He gathered her closer for his kiss, letting her see the fire within she had always known was there; as with a gasp, she wrenched her lips away. As much as she wanted to stay there, in his arms, she had to hurry. Fighting to breathe, she whispered against his lips, "I love you,"

Eldred felt her leave his arms, felt her disappear as he stared at the wall where she had been only a moment ago, left reeling by those three little words from a twenty-one year old woman. Slowly he turned to watch her hurry away from him, not stopping, her skirts floating in her wake.

"Nyssa…" she paused, and looked back for one second, "be careful," he warned her. She sent him a swift smile, before she disappeared around a bend in the corridor. Castellan Eldred could only return it weakly, his head turning to stare at the marble wall again, fighting to process what she had just told him, the warmth spreading through him at her words. Inwardly he swore to Rassilon that if she didn't return, if the Doctor failed to bring her back, he would not stop until he found them, and she was safe in his arms. Her and their child. The uncertainty that had swamped him at the revelation had dissipated at her words. He prayed she would return, that all she had shown him of the Doctor through their mental link would ring true in that situation.

* * *

Moments later, Nyssa rushed through the doors of the Tardis, still thrumming happily in the security compound. Breathing heavily, she paced to the console and stroked its surface gently. A sad smile dawned on her lips, as she turned from the achingly familiar sight and she left the room. She wandered into her old room, the one she had shared with Tegan, her old brown velvet trousers and jacket folded neatly over the chair. She put her hand on them, feeling their familiar softness beneath her fingers, before she closed the door.

Her dress would be inappropriate for running around with the Doctor; there always was running when it came to the Doctor. She slipped it off, and slid into her old clothes, feeling them on her skin with a shiver. They felt familiar and yet foreign; they were part of the old Nyssa, the Nyssa who had disappeared six months ago, when she had stood before the flame of Bonding, and looked into the steel-grey eyes of the Castellan. She had changed irrevocably, she could never go back. Not now, as she stroked her lower abdomen.

Her mind lingered on the three words she had spoken to her husband. She didn't regret them, would never regret them no matter what happened. They had been nothing but the truth. Despite everything, she had fallen in love with the Castellan. No, not the Castellan, Eldred her husband. That was who he really was, to her. And after that day, she knew in her heart, that he felt the same for her; albeit cloaked and hidden. He was a Time Lord; such things did not come easily. She could be patient. A small smile on her lips, she returned to the console room, feeling the Tardis's ancient hum resonate through her being. Time to wait for the Doctor, to help him one last time, before she returned to her life and her love. To her true home.


	13. One Last Time

Coming of Age

* * *

_Gallifrey_

The High Council gathered around the main console in Time Control, peering over Damon's shoulder. Borusa, Zorac, Thalia and the Castellan were there, anxiously waiting to hear of the Doctor's failure or success. It had been only a few minutes since they had successfully escaped Gallifrey in the Tardis, and Damon inwardly prayed that Nyssa would be alright.

Castellan Eldred's eyes were fixed on the tiny readout screen, giving him some surcease from the gnawing worry and fear in his hearts. He should never have let Nyssa leave; he should've stopped her. But the foolish child was too busy worrying about her obligation to the Doctor. Despite all he had seen of the Time Lord, and how Nyssa had such faith in him, his unpredictable ability to do the impossible, Eldred could not but fear for the life of his wife. And his unborn child.

The revelation still had yet to sink in. He and Nyssa had conceived the first child in nearly five millennia of Gallifrey's history. The Pythia's curse was dissipating. But the future was shrouded, uncertain. If Nyssa should return; he had no idea of how to go on. How did one be a father?

Pushing aside his uncertainty, he let the memory of his wife's words to him warm him. She had said she loved him.

Was that what he glimpsed in her, all those months ago, that so attracted him to her? As a Time Lord, did he even really know what love was? He, an eight hundred year old Time Lord, was completely at sea.

All he knew was that at her words, a warmth and a kind of….happiness had bloomed within his icy self, deep into the fire at his core, that fire he always knew was there, and took great pains to control.

"The Doctor has failed. Antimatter, and building up fast!" Damon straightened from his position at the console, bringing Eldred out of his reverie, as the engineer turned to the High Council. A frown settling over his brow, he darted a look at Borusa, sensing the uncertainty beneath his serene visage.

As the shielding decayed; the readout console beeping in alarm, the High Council could only look on, helpless, despite their power. The fate of the Universe was in the hands of the Doctor and Nyssa. It was a feeling no Time Lord liked to endure willingly.

Zorac, pessimistic as usual, broke the tense silence, turning to the brooding Castellan beside him. "The Doctor's not going to be able to contain it."

Barely sparing the spineless Cardinal a glance, he replied, "I've found it unwise to predict what the Doctor can and cannot do."

Or Nyssa for that matter. He hoped, no knew in his hearts, that they would stop Omega. He had faith in her.

Suddenly Damon turned his head, fear and urgency betrayed in his voice. "The shielding is going fast!"

Borusa looked away in alarm; as Zorac sucked in a gasp beside him. Eldred could only take a deep breath.

_Come on, Nyssa, come on…_

* * *

_Amsterdam, Earth_

Nyssa fought to breathe as she, Tegan and the Doctor raced through the Earth city. They had traced Omega, via Tegan, to an old crypt, and now they were racing to catch him before he reverted to antimatter. They could not fail.

Unconsciously, her hand fell to her abdomen, remembering the small life she now carried within her. She could not fail; not the Doctor, herself, or Eldred and their child. She would return to him. Omega would be stopped.

Pounding over the cobblestones, she darted a glance at her dearest friends. The Doctor's face was slightly flushed, yet he appeared perfectly fine, barely out of breath. Tegan's elfin face, on the other hand, was red and puffing, as she struggled to keep up with the six foot Time Lord, running in high heels. Nyssa wasn't faring much better, even in her old velvet trousers and jacket.

Sensing the urgency behind the Doctor's calm façade, she doubled her pace, digging deep for all her strength, as she raced on, after the figure in black overalls that continued to flee. Omega would not escape; they had him in their sights now.

Their chase finally led them to a small dock beside the canal. She wrinkled her nose at the unwholesome smell of the water, making her stomach churn. They finally came to halt, Omega cornered, as the two women fought to regain their breath. Nyssa regarded the shrunken man in front of her. So this was Omega, the first Time Lord, and the reason for all her heartache and trials over the past six months. She could feel only pity, at the sight of his decaying face and withering form, where only half an hour ago they had been an exact duplicate of the Doctor's youthful face and body.

"I warned you this would happen, Omega," the Doctor gravely spoke, his chest rising and falling only a little. Nyssa guessed having two hearts helped his cardiovascular endurance.

"Things could have been different," Omega said, his tone strangely sad, in that deep, resonant voice she remembered from Gallifrey. "Power and the greatness of Omega could have been yours! But no, your hatred of me…"

"We didn't hate you, Omega," the Doctor interrupted him earnestly, pity and yet a stern purpose in his eyes. Nyssa shivered; she had seen that look before. "Why couldn't you be content to survive as you were? Why?"

"Time to come home, Doctor, time for rest. To find peace, but it's over now," Omega replied, forlorn and pitiful. Nyssa could barely believe this was the insane creature that had caused the Doctor's execution, Tegan's incarceration and all the trouble on Gallifrey. But then a spark of madness glinted in Omega's blue eyes, as he straightened, with some effort, forcing himself to stand. "All must die!"

The Doctor surreptitiously reached into his inner coat pocket, pulling out pieces of the matter converter gun the Ergon had carried, and beginning to slot them back into place. Nyssa shivered, watching the Doctor, never taking his eyes off Omega, grim determination in his eyes.

"You'll never have the courage to use it, Doctor!" Omega said, his voice taunting, sure. The Doctor wasn't a killer. Yet Omega hadn't seen the Doctor, at his most dark, and his most determined, as Nyssa and Tegan had. The young Australian sent her an uneasy look, looking none the worse for wear for her two hours of imprisonment.

"I can expel or destroy you, Omega," the Doctor returned, his tone warning. The Doctor never issued threats, only warnings. "It's your choice."

The wind blew through the city, reminding Nyssa of all the people there, all the people that would die, if they failed.

"Too late, Doctor. What you offer is worse than death!" Omega pushed himself upright, taking a few steps towards the trio, his grotesque face filled with fanatical hatred. Hatred of all that was allowed to exist, when he may not. Nyssa's hand dropped to her stomach again, praying the Doctor would find the strength to use the matter converter before it was too late. "If I am denied life then all must perish!"

"What's he trying to do?" Tegan asked, her familiar harsh accent momentarily soothing Nyssa, as the Doctor hastily finished rebuilding the matter converter.

"Willing his own destruction!" the Doctor returned shortly, his gaze flicking to Tegan's elfin face, and then to Nyssa, before returning to Omega. "Don't force me, Omega!"

"Farewell, Doctor!" Omega's breathing deepened, becoming harsher as he stumbled towards them, all the power of his will displayed within his insane eyes. Nyssa shivered, refusing to give up hope.

"Stop him!" Tegan begged the Doctor, her face upturned to his, desperation evident on her face. Nyssa could only watch Omega as he prowled toward them. Was she going to die after all? Without ever seeing Eldred again. She had promised him she would return. She would never hold their child, see him grow up, watch him become a man. In that moment, she knew the child would be a boy. He would never have the chance to live, to breathe, to see the incredible and terrible universe around him.

The Doctor's eyes darted to Nyssa, and as if reading her thoughts, he smiled at her in reassurance. Turning back to Omega, pain and weariness on his youthful face, he took aim and fired the matter converter.

Omega's death scream would haunt Nyssa for a long time, as he faded away before their eyes.

"It's over," at the Doctor's quiet, terse comment, Nyssa breathed a sigh of relief, as one, the trio turned and walked away.

* * *

_Gallifrey_

An alert pinged on the console, as Damon straightened, a relieved smile very evident on his young face. "The antimatter source is gone. Omega has been destroyed!"

A relieved smile broke across everyone's lips, as Thalia breathed a sigh of relief, Zorac looked to the Castellan with barely contained excitement, and Eldred breathed freely for the first time in the past twenty minutes. Only Borusa remained solemn.

"Unfortunate wretched creature! My hope is that he has found peace at last," Borusa sighed, ancient sadness resonating within his tone. Despite the truth of the Lord President's words, Eldred could only feel relief. Omega was gone; which meant the Universe was safe, and Nyssa was safe. Now he had to get her back; he did not trust the Doctor to do so.

As the High Council breathed a collective sigh of relief, the Castellan turned to Damon.

"Recall the Doctor's Tardis immediately," he ordered brusquely, ignoring the shocked glance from Zorac, and the knowing ones of Borusa and Thalia. They could gloat later; behind his back and out of his sight. Damon shook his head, inwardly wondering what on Gallifrey was going on.

"I'm afraid I can't, Castellan. When I replaced the time element on the Doctor's Tardis, he asked that I replace the original with one that lacked a recall circuit."

At Damon's words, respectful yet amused at the same time, Eldred sucked in a deep breath, and pinched the bridge of his nose, a wry smile on his face.

_Nyssa, you are going to be the regeneration of me one of these days!_


	14. Homeward Bound

Coming of Age

* * *

The Doctor and Nyssa stood in a sun-soaked square, as Tegan called the hospital to check on her cousin. Nyssa turned to her dear old friend, waiting impatiently for Tegan to finish her call so he could be off, back to his exploration and travels. Back to his old life.

But not for her, she had somewhere else she needed to be now. Her place was no longer by his side. That was Tegan's task now. Or at least, she hoped she would join the Doctor again.

"Is Omega dead?" Nyssa asked, studying his boyish face intently, searching his sky-blue eyes. Pain crossed his face for a moment.

"Well he seemed to die before, yet he returned to confound us all," The Doctor favoured her with a charming grin, looking away before looking back, impatience breaking through his mien. At that moment Tegan exited the phone booth and approached them, a relieved smile on her lips.

"Well, you'll be pleased to hear Colin will be out of hospital in a couple of days and on his way home to Brisbane," Tegan informed them, joyous and excited.

"Excellent!" the Doctor returned, his familiar old grin sparking as he looked at his erstwhile companion. Nyssa watched him, watched his body language. After months of living amongst Time Lords, the Doctor had become much easier to read. A crafty smile lit her youthful lips, a plan taking shape in her mind, as she turned back to Tegan.

"And what about you?" Nyssa asked her old friend.

"Ooh, I'm indestructible, I'm fine," Tegan replied, eyes narrowing as she took in the sly smile on Nyssa's face. What was the girl up to?

But then again, as she looked at the Trakenite, she wasn't a girl any more. Her radiant hazel hair shone in the sunlight, halfway down her back now, her serious eyes twinkling with life and joy, and her figure had certainly filled out. All in all, Tegan could detect the signs of a young woman, very much in love, and well-loved in return. What had happened to cause it?

Tegan experienced a momentary surge of jealousy as she glanced towards the Doctor, but deep down, she guessed he wasn't the cause. No, something else was. Or someone.

* * *

"It's been marvellous to see you again," the Doctor told her warmly, and as his eyes met Tegan's, Nyssa smirked at the look that passed between them. Her plan was taking shape.

"Indeed. I've missed you," Nyssa seconded the Doctor's comment. She had indeed missed her vivacious, fiery friend. She'd been a great source of comfort after Adric's death, and she would feel better for knowing that Tegan would remain with the Doctor after she had left him. "I wish you didn't have to go back to your job."

Tegan's face broke into a mischievous grin, making her look like a naughty pixie.

"What job? Didn't I tell you? I got the sack!" Tegan exclaimed excitedly, as Nyssa laughed and hugged her friend, sending the Doctor a warning look. "So you're stuck with me, aren't you?"

The Doctor smiled wanly, sending Nyssa a meaningful glance. The girl had become far too cunning for her own good. He knew precisely what Nyssa was up to.

"So it seems," he replied shortly, wringing his hat between his fingers. Indeed, he was stuck with the indestructible mouth on legs for good now. A part of him relished the thought, another sank into gloomy apprehension of many arguments to come, with no Nyssa to act as a buffer.

* * *

Thinking so, he turned and led the way back into the Tardis.

Once inside, Nyssa strode determinedly to the console, ahead of the Doctor.

"So where are we going?" Tegan asked, her excitement barely contained, despite the Doctor's begrudging attitude. The Doctor just looked at Nyssa askance, as she typed in co-ordinates with an ease only Time Lords possessed, and prepared for takeoff.

"Nyssa, where did you learn to pilot a Tardis?" he asked slowly, a frown on his youthful brow, ignoring the chattering Australian beside him.

"Eldred taught me to pilot a Type 60. After that, a Type 40 is no trouble," Nyssa explained with a shrug, gracefully moving around the console, knowledgeably easing the Tardis home. Back to Gallifrey.

The Doctor's hand over hers on the controls brought her head up to meet his. Concern for her was in those ancient eyes, sad and filled with pain. She was glad Tegan would be there, in the coming days, to help him recover from the trauma of killing Omega.

"Are you sure about this, Nyssa?" he asked gently, firmly. Raising her chin, in a manner so reminiscent of Tegan at her most determined the Doctor nearly backed off then and there, she replied.

"I'm sure, Doctor. I know where I belong now, and _**we**_ can't abandon him," she replied, placing her free hand on her stomach. Tegan noticed the move, and the inaudible communication passing between the two. What was going on?

"Where are we going?" she asked again, slightly belligerent now. The Doctor released Nyssa and took over piloting, as he looked over at Tegan.

"Gallifrey."

Nyssa slipped out of the console room, to say farewell to the Tardis. It would take them ten minutes to arrive, and she could hardly wait. She had wondered if travelling back to Earth and helping the Doctor would make her yearn for her old life, but there was none. Just a desperate desire to return to her new life, to her husband. She didn't belong with the Doctor any more.

* * *

_I'm coming, Eldred….._

Far away, on a planet suspended out of time, a brown-robed Time Lord sat up at the gentle whisper in his mind, relieved from his anxious wait in the Council chambers, surrounded by the High Council. She was coming home to him….

* * *

Nyssa wandered into her old room, smiling sadly at the shimmering silver gown over the chair, and at the fancy dress costumes hanging from a coat stand. They reminded her of the girl she had been, and of the woman she had become. She wondered what the future would hold, as she stroked her abdomen.

"Nyssa?"

At the gentle query, steeped in familiar accents so alien to her, Nyssa turned to meet her old friend. Tegan wandered through the door, back into the old room she had shared with Nyssa, feeling a shiver of reminiscence. Nothing seemed to have changed, except for the young woman standing before her.

"So, the Doc said you're not staying on the Tardis," Tegan began awkwardly.

"That's right," Nyssa replied gently.

"Why?" Tegan asked. "You've changed, Nyssa."

"Tegan, things…changed when the Doctor was executed by the Time Lords. He told you about that, didn't he?" Nyssa continued. Tegan nodded. "Well, when the Doctor was executed, the Time Lord High Council offered me a choice…."

And so Nyssa poured out the entire tale, starting from the choice Borusa had given her, and ending when she left Gallifrey with the Doctor. When she had finished, Tegan's face was a mixture of disgust, anger, fascination, pity and disbelief.

"The-" Tegan called Castellan Eldred a very rude name before she continued, "forced you to marry him, and you want to go back to him?"

"Tegan, the bonding may have been a lesser of two evils, but over time I-I…." Nyssa couldn't go on, but looked down, blushing. Tegan glimpsed the girl she once was.

"Yes?"

"I love him, Tegan. And I'm carrying his child. Can't you see?" Nyssa suddenly burst out, clutching Tegan's hand desperately. "Ever since Adric died, I've felt….restless and out of place. You were so consumed with going home, and the Doctor, well, he wasn't the most approachable man. He was my friend, and my guardian but he wasn't someone I could relate to. And then you left…"

"I didn't want to leave. I came back, I never wanted to leave you. Either of you," Tegan interrupted her. Nyssa smiled sadly.

"I knew that. Maybe you should've told the Doctor that," she murmured. Tegan coloured and looked down.

"But with Eldred, I've finally found somewhere I can be at peace. The Doctor has taught me so much, but there is so much he cannot teach me. I-I just…." Nyssa trailed off. How could she explain that illogical need and devotion she felt? It was inexplicable. Tegan suddenly laughed, the musical sound echoing in the empty room.

"You really are in love with him, aren't you?" she joked, punching Nyssa gently on the bicep. After a moment, she sobered and asked, "Does he love you in return?"

"Well, he's never told me but I think he does. No, I know he does," she said, a certainty in her voice Tegan had never heard before.

"Nyssa…." She began, but the young woman cut her off.

"No, Tegan, you don't understand. Time Lords can't…they don't usually feel love. They can't, their duties to the Web of Time prevent them from it. They are logical beings, and love undermines that logic, that control," Nyssa explained stiltedly.

"Then how do you know he loves you in return?" Tegan asked, gently but ruthlessly.

"Because he left me. He left me and came back again," Nyssa replied, smiling softly. Tegan opened her mouth to ask another question, when the Doctor poked his head around the door.

* * *

"We're going to be landing in approximately two minutes. Nyssa can I talk to you, alone, for a minute?" he asked. Nyssa nodded, and slid off the bed, following the Doctor out of the room, Tegan following the pair with smiling eyes.

The Doctor closed the door of the console room behind Nyssa, before facing her with a serious expression on his face.

"Nyssa, are you sure about this?" he asked, searchingly.

"I am sure, Doctor. I know where I belong," she replied gently, placing a hand over her velvet covered abdomen. The Doctor's eyes dropped down, an expression of wonder on his boyish face.

"I would never have credited this," he said, awe in his eyes. "I never believed it could be possible."

"Well it has happened, Doctor. As unbelievable as it may seem, it has happened," Nyssa replied. The Doctor's eyes returned to hers, smiling widely now.

"If anything, I am immensely proud of who you have become, Nyssa. Only a true and loyal friend would have stood her ground the way you did in the Council chamber. Only a wise and devoted young woman wouldn't grasp the chance to evade her responsibilities, and I am very proud to have known you," he continued, grinning as she blushed.

"Thank you, Doctor," she smiled, suddenly flinging her arms around him and kissing him on the cheek. "Thank you for saving me from Traken, thank you for teaching me and guiding me. Thank you for bringing me to Gallifrey,"

"That wasn't exactly my doing, Nyssa," the Doctor mumbled, his cheeks burning red. He wasn't used to compliments, unless they came from himself, or the people he had just saved.

"Yes, it was, Doctor. Because you're you," she replied enigmatically. The Doctor's eyes narrowed.

"I see you've picked up some of Eldred's enigmatic remarks," he sighed, releasing her, and stepping back.

"He grows on you," Nyssa replied, as the door opened, and Tegan poked her head through, checking if the coast was clear. With a relieved smile, she took her place beside the Doctor, as the Tardis engines boomed, and they landed. Nyssa regarded the sight of the two of them with a smile, a poignant sadness and joy fighting for dominance with her heart. With a deep breath, as the Tardis doors opened, and a blinding smile over her shoulder at her friends, she glided out of the doors.

She was home.


	15. Return To Gallifrey

Coming of Age

* * *

_Gallifrey_

The ancient hum of the Tardis engines reverberated throughout the Panopticon hall. The distinctive shape of the blue police box slowly materialised, as a squad of Chancellery Guards, headed by Commanders Maxil and Andred, formed up around it, four robed figures solemnly waiting for it to solidify. The atmosphere was like treacle; it could have been cut with a knife.

The door creaked open, and a slender brown-haired figure emerged, clothed in velvet brown trousers and jacket, her long rippling curls loose down her back, oh so different from the naïve young girl of six months ago. One of the robed figures shifted impatiently, as two of the others smiled to themselves.

* * *

Tegan stepped out beside her two best friends, and instantly clocked the four imposing Time Lords waiting for them. As if it wasn't enough to have a bunch of muscle-laden, gun-toting soldiers surrounding them as well! But at that moment, Nyssa left her side to glide forward, clasping hands with a sandy-haired Time Lord in robes of brown and gold.

_Castellan Eldred, I presume_, Tegan thought with an elegantly raised eyebrow.

* * *

"Doctor, welcome back. The Time Lords owe you an immense debt-" a wizened Time Lord in a robe of deep purple stepped forward, his head covered by a silver cap, but his words fell on Tegan's deaf ears as she observed the couple in front of her. They did not kiss, or embrace, or anything so outrageous and telling, but Tegan could see a great deal of feeling in both parties' eyes, in their clasped hands as Nyssa took her place beside him, their hands still entwined.

"And who is your companion, Doctor?" the silver-robed Time Lord Tegan dimly remembered being called Borusa by the Doctor, turned to her with a kindly smile, along with a graceful lady with a hauntingly beautiful face. The Doctor turned to her with a smile, his hand lingering on the small of her back.

"Borusa, Thalia, Eldred, Zorac, my companion; Tegan of Sol 3," he introduced her, sending her a reassuring look. Tegan looked back at the imposing Time Lords with an arch glint in her eye, one the Doctor saw and smiled wryly. "Tegan, allow me to introduce the High Council of Gallifrey."

Meeting the gaze of the four imposing Time Lords, she inwardly smirked.

"Pleasure to meet you," she said, stepping forward with a bright smile, holding her hand out. The High Council stared at her, as if she'd grown horns, before Borusa gingerly took her hand.

"You are welcome to Gallifrey, Tegan," Chancellor Thalia finally said, a slight smile on her lips as she observed the bold young Australian. Instantly she recognised that this human was very different from Nyssa, but there was something in the way she stood, that echoed Nyssa. Or was it Nyssa echoing this Tegan?

The Doctor rolled his eyes at Tegan's move, inwardly chuckling. His gaze travelled to Nyssa, standing entwined with her husband, her eyes on Tegan as she surprised the High Council, an amused smirk on her delicate lips.

* * *

"We just stopped by to drop Nyssa off," the Doctor finally broke the slightly tense silence, inwardly desperate to turn back into his Tardis and escape from his old home once and for all, before they found a reason to keep him here. "So, Tegan, if we just…."

"Doctor!" the Castellan's brusque tone stopped him in his tracks, one hand on Tegan's back as he went to turn her. Sighing, he turned around once more.

"Yes, Castellan?" he asked wearily, meeting the steel-grey gaze of the older Time Lord. To his surprise, he looked…uncomfortable, as if he were speaking through gritted teeth.

"I wish to thank you for returning my wife, and to….offer my apology for falsely accusing you of treason," Eldred ground out stiltedly, conscious of Nyssa's hand tightly holding his own. Over his shoulder, Nyssa gave the Doctor a sly wink, a smirk on her face. Inwardly chuckling, the Doctor smiled urbanely and nodded.

"Well, it's all in the past, and we really must be off," he tried to leave again, but this time Borusa cut him off.

"Doctor, can I not convince you to stay for a short while? There is the matter of Hedin's role in this affair to straighten out, as well as ensuring that any other followers of Omega do not attempt retribution, on these I would appreciate your help and advice. Also there is the Ceremony of Passing," the Lord President remarked, his face growing sad.

"The Ceremony of Passing?" Tegan asked, confused, pointedly ignoring the Doctor's increasingly forceful tugging of her hand.

"The Time Lord version of a funeral," the Doctor explained through gritted teeth.

"Even though Hedin nearly brought ruin upon us all with his stratagems; he was a great man once, and we would do well to remember the man he was," Thalia said, a disapproving eye on the Doctor, as he visibly deflated, and stopped trying to covertly get his companion back into the Tardis.

"You would be under no constraint to remain here forever, Doctor," Borusa added, as Tegan flicked a look at Nyssa, and then back at the Doctor.

"I would like to stay for a while, Doctor," she interjected, softly for once, her eyes travelling back to her young friend. Her young, pregnant, married friend at that. Tegan's head still hadn't quite got the revelation sorted out yet.

The Doctor intercepted the looks between the Trakenite and the Earthling, knowing this was one battle he would not win.

"Please, Doctor, I would like it if you would stay for a while," Nyssa tried to step away from her husband, but he only moved with her, refusing to let go of her just yet.

"Oh…alright," he heaved a sigh, shutting the door of the Tardis behind him with a defeated flick of the head.

* * *

Nyssa smiled as she led Tegan and the Doctor, still huffing dejectedly, down a corridor to the rooms prepared for them. Their little welcoming community had broken up a few moments ago, with Eldred finally letting her go to see to the Doctor, whilst he attended to some matters with the High Council. The look, deep in his sylvan eyes where only Nyssa could see it, had told her very clearly he wasn't about to let her out of his sight for the next couple of weeks. The prospect was hardly an alarming one. She could still feel the cool pressure of his hand in hers before he left her. Finally she stopped outside of two doors, using her handprint to open them. It had been added to the databank weeks ago.

"Here you are, Doctor. You know your way around I know, so I'll be next door with Tegan if you do need me," she murmured, as the Doctor slid into the room with a mumbled 'Hmph!'

Smiling at the Doctor's sulk, she led Tegan into the next room, laughing as the air hostess gasped in wonder at her luxurious surroundings.

This sure as hell beat the rabbit's teeth out of any hotel she'd ever stayed in!

The apartment was of a similar layout to Nyssa's quarters, but all the furnishings and walls were in colours of autumnal reds and oranges; the colours of the Prydonian chapter.

"The bedroom will be through there, with the hygiene chamber just beyond it. Just ask the computer for whatever you need, Tegan, and with the wardrobes you just have to imagine what you want for the computer to materialise it," Nyssa explained, leading her friend into the bedroom, which was as spacious and as comfortable as the living quarters had been.

"What d'you mean 'just imagine what I want'?" Tegan asked, a small frown on her elfin face.

"The computer is linked to your mind. Not like the Mara, Tegan," Nyssa added hastily, at the unease in her young friend's eyes. "It's not meant to be intrusive."

"Alright. Seems easy enough," Tegan shrugged, ignoring the slight fear she had of having anything in her head, since the episode with the Mara on Deva Loka. Squaring her shoulders, she strode to the interface and closed her eyes.

Nyssa watched, as Tegan's face puffed with the strain, reddening, until she couldn't take it anymore. She burst into laughter.

"What? It's not easy!" Tegan exploded, outraged. After a second, she too relaxed and started to giggle, as Nyssa glided over to her.

"Here; try again. Stop concentrating so hard and just imagine what you want to wear," she advised, placing her hands on the Earthling's shoulders. Tegan nodded, closing her eyes again, as with a humming noise, the computer produced a pale gold gown with an empire neckline and skirt, replacing the white shorts and corset seamlessly. Tegan opened her eyes and gasped with delight, twirling around. Nyssa laughed with her friend, happy for the first time in hours. She was home, she had her friends with her, and as soon as Eldred finished the Council meeting, she would go to him.

* * *

Tegan bounced onto the massive bed, bubbly and laughing, a joyous smile on her lips, as the Doctor poked his head around the door.

"What on Gallifrey is going on in here?" he inquired, in much the same tone as a schoolmaster might use when finding two pupils engaged in some wrongdoing. Nyssa sat on the bed with her friend, giggling as she looked up at her old friend. Eventually his stern expression melted away, replaced by a fond smile as he regarded them both. "I see Tegan's discovered the wardrobe computer."

"We've just been having some 'fun', Doctor," Tegan replied with a sly smirk. His frown returning, he opened his mouth to reply when a bell chimed throughout the Citadel. Nyssa stood immediately.

"The Council meeting has adjourned. I'd better go, and I will see you tomorrow," she murmured, already hurrying out the door. Tegan watched her go with a knowing smile, one that caused Nyssa to blush. The Doctor watched her go with his hands in his pockets, shaking his head.

"She seems happy, Doctor. This Eldred obviously cares for her," Tegan spoke into the silence once Nyssa had gone. The Doctor merely snorted.

"You just have to spoil the romance, don't you, Doc?" the Australian muttered to herself, as she rolled over on her excessively large bed to glance outside the window.

"What is it with my companions and Gallifrey? That's two I've lost to this place," the Doctor grumbled. Tegan turned to him with a non-comprehending expression.

"What d'you mean?"

"Well, first Leela and now Nyssa, both married to Gallifreyans. There must be something in the water," the Doctor concluded.

"Or in the air. _Love is in the air-_" Tegan started singing teasingly, before the Doctor faced her with a frown.

"Don't you start! Next thing I know you'll be telling me you've fallen in love with Maxil," He snarled good-naturedly, jokingly. Tegan looked thoughtful.  
"Was he the tall, blonde one in the hall? The one with an expression that was all moody and 'somebody save me'?" Tegan asked slyly, seeing how much further she could tease him.

"Yes?" he replied, his tone evidently a warning. Tegan rolled onto her back, grinning at the ceiling.

"Well he wasn't too bad for an alien. Not too bad at al-"

"Don't you dare!" the Doctor cut her off, his voice low and husky, but she could see as she turned her head to face him that he was playing with her, joking and teasing. Their relationship wasn't as strained as she remembered.

"Don't worry, Doc. Mr Goody-Two-Shoes like him are no fun. I prefer the bad boy type, if you must know. The adventurous ones," Tegan murmured, looking away, feeling a slight blush heat her cheeks. An awkward silence followed, only broken when the Doctor gently touched Tegan's face.

"I never wanted you to leave the Tardis, Tegan," he muttered softly. Anger, for a moment, rose in the Australian.

"Then why did you bloody well leave me behind then?" she inquired archly. The Doctor sighed, calling on all his patience, before he replied.

"Because I thought you did," he replied, looking down at his dirty trainers. Tegan softened, and reached out her hand to his face, tucking back a lock of golden blonde hair.

"I never wanted to leave the Tardis, Doctor. I never wanted to leave Nyssa, or you for that matter," she replied, as truthfully as she could. His blue eyes sparkling, he smiled down at her, one Tegan returned in full measure.

Maybe life on the Tardis without Nyssa wouldn't be so bad after all.

* * *

Nyssa walked back to her apartments as speedily as she could, smirking as she remembered the look on the Doctor's face when he'd seen Tegan in that gold dress. She felt sure the next few weeks leading up to Hedin's Ceremony would be interesting, for those two at least.

With a shiver of delight she stepped into her cool apartments, her skin feverishly warm, the rooms still dark even as the suns set outside.

"Eldred?" she called, looking towards the door that connected their rooms, but there was no light beneath it. She moved further into the room, reaching for the light when a very familiar hand twined itself around her waist, and cool lips pressed against her neck from behind. In that contact, a mixture of relief and desire swept into her mind from his, mingling with her own, as she relaxed into her husband's arms.

* * *

Hours later, Nyssa lay in his arms, studying his face from beneath her lashes, memorising every last inch of his visage. She had come so close to losing all she had gained.

"I thought I was going to lose you," she murmured, resting her head on his shoulder.

"You're safe now, Nyssa. You and our child," he murmured back, pressing a soft kiss against her hair as he felt her slowly begin to fall asleep. Exhaling softly, Eldred stared up at the ceiling, holding his wife in his arms.

There was so much he wanted to say but couldn't, so much she deserved to hear. But his mouth was mute. At that moment he could only feel, not think, and he felt contented and whole after all the worry and gnawing fear of the past few hours. His Nyssa was home, in his arms, where she belonged and she would not leave him again. He wouldn't let her.

His lips quirked wryly, as he remembered their first meeting six months ago, the physical and chemical reaction to her, and the events that had thrown them together.

Borusa had said something about inevitability. _Do not fight the inevitable. Few things are sure in the Web of Time but some things are._

And Eldred would not fight it for the universe.

* * *

_**The End**_


End file.
